


Shadows and Monsters

by scilessweetheart



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, BAMF Malia Tate, BAMF Stiles, Bodyguard, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Mystery, Organized Crime
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-28
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 34,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28371432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scilessweetheart/pseuds/scilessweetheart
Summary: Stiles was good at his job. He could hit a target, smuggle money, and cover his tracks better than anyone else in the organization. When information concerning the identity of crime lord Peter Hale's daughter is released, he is tasked with protecting her. Even though he would so much rather be tracking down the source of the leak, especially as tensions increase between them and their rival group.
Relationships: Stiles Stilinski/Malia Tate
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I would like to start this off by saying I have done my best to research this, but there are still a lot of things that confuse me, so sorry for any inaccuracies. Also, if you're the kind of person who listens to music as you read, I recommend the songs "WTF Do I Know," "Hayloft," and "Take Me Out." Anyway, I hope you like it!!
> 
> Title is from Control by Halsey.

It wasn’t supposed to get this messy. It was a simple job – stop by the abandoned warehouse outside of the city, pick up a stack of cash, and get out as soon as possible. Scott and Stiles had done hundreds of jobs just like this. That is why they should’ve expected things would go south. Of course, the guys they were sent to meet brought backup. And, of course, they were armed with lots of guns. Luckily, Stiles was a good shot, Scott managed to grab the duffle bag full of money, and they both had a lot of good threats they would be following through on. They narrowly avoided being shot by at least ten different people but managed to make it back to the car.

“Okay, we killed that!” Stiles cheered, slamming the door shut.

“And not literally this time.” Scott pointed out, relieved.

“Seriously, Scott. I love you. But you are in the wrong line of work if you are going to continue to fixate on that.”

He sighed. “I know, I know.”

Stiles glanced back towards the inconspicuous black duffle bag in their backseat. “So is it all there?”

“Yeah, all 1.8 million dollars.” Scott informed him.

He whistled appreciatively. “That’s insane.”

“I know.”

“Hale will be excited. Or you know, his version of excited where his lip quirks up in the corner like this.” Stiles imitated him, making Scott laugh.

“That’s totally the face he makes!”

“Anyway, we need to hurry up. It’s not a good idea to be carrying this around for too long.”

“I agree.”

Stiles shifted gears and peeled out of the lot before they could encounter any more trouble. They spent about forty minutes in the car talking about upcoming tasks and gossiping about the other people in their level, until they finally returned to the city. The building reading “Hale Industries” towered over everything around it. Stiles pulled into their parking garage.

They walked into the lobby, Nike shoes squeaking on the freshly waxed tile. The receptionist knew who they were, so he waved them back towards the elevators without a word. Scott fidgeted with the strap of the bag nervously as they stood there. The elevator doors opened, depositing them on the top floor, down the hall from their boss’s office. They took a seat and waited to be addressed.

“Stilinski and McCall. You can head in.” Peter Hale’s assistant informed them, pushing open the door.

They stepped into the office, immediately halting the conversation of the other two people in the room. Peter Hale sat behind a large oak desk; his hands folded diplomatically in front of him. His face was contorted into a deep frown, his eyes glaring at the woman next to him. Talia Hale, Peter’s older sister and second-hand in running the organization, had her arms crossed and glared back at him. The light coming in from the big windows that spanned the entire back of the office caused their faces to be shadowed, making their expressions seem even darker. The air was thick with tension and Stiles wanted no part of it.

Before he and Scott could cautiously back out of the room, Peter turned towards them and eyed the bag in Scott’s hands. “Is this everything?”

“Yes, sir.”

Scott stepped forward and placed the bag on the table carefully, before backing up quickly next to Stiles. Hale unzipped the back counted the stacks carefully, before nodding. Without saying anything, he passed it into the hands of Talia, much to her obvious chagrin.

“Good. You can go.” He waved them off.

Luckily, they got to leave for a few hours. Peter is surprisingly generous when it comes to providing breaks for his employees. Scott and Stiles did a big job for him that morning, so they got a few hours off to relax and clean up, before being expected back at the building. This was helpful at times like these, where Stiles was exhausted and had more than a few injuries to patch up. Nothing worth seeing their medic, Dr. Alan Deaton, about, though. He’s been able to stitch himself up since he was fourteen.

It didn’t take them long to return to the parking garage. This time, however, they were looking for Stiles’ blue Jeep. They didn’t drive it when they had jobs to do, as it was too recognizable, but it was perfectly fine for everyday use, such as his trips to and from Hale Industries. He had considered buying a new, more inconspicuous car, but ultimately decided it wasn’t worth it. He loved his Jeep, the car Hale lets him use is much nicer than anything he could ever afford, and he would still need to rotate vehicles for security purposes, anyway.

“I am in desperate need of a shower.” Stiles complained, climbing into his car.

“I can tell.”

Stiles scoffed. “Rude.”

“What time are you called back in tonight?” Scott asked him, as he checked his messages.

“I think around eight. I need to finish a report on that run in I had with the Alpha Pack.”

Scott’s eyebrows shot up. “You still haven’t done that?”

“No, and Lydia’s been on my ass about it. What about you?”

“I have to be in at seven. I have to show the newbies the ropes.”

“Oh, wow. How’d you get stuck doing that?” Stiles laughed.

“I offered.” Scott shrugged and Stiles’ jaw dropped.

Scott, in Stiles’ opinion, is in the wrong line of work. Don’t get him wrong, Scott is excellent and has saved Stiles’ ass more times than he can count. But he still hasn’t been totally corrupted. Not like Stiles. He still has reservations about killing people, even when they are actively shooting at him, and he still wants to help people more than anything. Stiles doesn’t even fully know how he got involved. There was an incident with Scott’s mom and a local gang, and Scott offered to work for Peter in exchange for his protection. He knew that for a fact. That being said, he doesn’t know why the McCall’s were targeted in the first place or why Scott had any loyalty towards Peter. Scott won’t talk about it though, so it’s the one mystery Stiles can’t figure out.

All he knows, is that Scott deserves better. I mean, he is offering to initiate the rookies. Well, they all have various jobs training them, like how Stiles has to teach them to shoot, Scott does combat, and Lydia does undercover work. But that's painful enough as it is, so they usually have to draw straws for who spends extra time with them. Yet sweet, enthusiastic, Scott McCall volunteered.

“That’s disgusting.” He pretended to shudder. “Is there any potential?”

Scott shrugged. “Dunbar seems pretty aggressive, which will be good. I’m not sure about Romero or Hewitt, though.”

“Good luck with that, then.” He told Scott, pulling up in front of the other boy’s apartment building.

“Good luck with your report.” Scott responds, climbing out of the car.

Stiles lived about five minutes away from Scott. This made things very convenient for them in terms of transportation and grocery shopping. They are both so busy that they hardly ever make it to the store to buy food, so they will pop over to the other person’s house to steal snacks multiple times a week. If you would have told Stiles that he would meet his best friend, practically his brother, working for a mob boss, or whatever it is you would call Peter Hale, he would have laughed at you. Yet now that he’s living it, it doesn’t seem so surprising after all.

The first thing he did when arriving home was take a shower. He washed out the many cuts along his arm and across his jawline, making sure to carefully apply band-aids to them. He was lucky in that none of his gashes needed stitches. He also was once again thankful that he didn’t have to deal with a gun shot wound. Once that was done, he cooked himself a microwave dinner of chicken pot pie and scrolled through his phone. 

After that, he still had time to kill, so he picked up some food for the week and watched a movie. He didn’t usually have this much free time, so he was grateful for the few hours of quiet he had. Before he knew it, it was 7:30, which meant he had to head back to Hale Industries. He sighed and hopped back into his Jeep.

When he got there, the building was in chaos. He had to stop, sign in officially, and scan his keycard before gaining entry to anywhere past the lobby, which was unusual. Then, when he reached his floor, everyone was whispering and glancing around the room wearily. He stopped at his desk, which was across from Scott, and dropped down his bag. As he did that, someone rushed past him, yelling into the phone. A girl near him, Kira Yukimura, looked close to tears as she typed out an email.

“Woah, dude. What’s going on?” Stiles asked, confused.

“I’ve been trying to call you for like an hour.”

“Sorry, my phone must’ve been off.”

Scott seemed just as panicked as everyone else. “So you haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?” Stiles groaned frustratedly.

Scott glanced around before leaning in. “We found out someone’s been leaking information.”

“What? What got out?” Stiles’ eyes widened. No wonder it was complete chaos. Depending on what got released, they could all be in serious danger and at risk of being caught for some serious crimes.

“Apparently Martin intercepted a message. We don’t know who it’s from or where it was being sent to, but it referenced Malia Hale. We are almost certain her identity and whereabouts have been released.”

He wrung his hands nervously. “They have no idea who it is?”

“They have some suspicions because only the top few levels even know about her existence, but nothing concrete.”

“Explains why everything has gone to shit.”

Before Scott could reply, they were interrupted. “Stilinski! Mr. Hale wants to see you in his office.” The secretary called out.

Stiles froze. “Am I about to die?”

“If you don’t hurry up.” Scott told him, giving him a push towards the elevators.

He tapped his foot anxiously as he went up. He doesn’t think he has ever interacted with Hale twice in one day. He tried to mentally think of all the things he possible could have done wrong. Everything went fine earlier that day, otherwise Scott would be with him. It could be that he is significantly far behind on his paperwork, but he would be reprimanded by either Lydia or someone from their records department. He can honestly say he has no clue what is about to happen.

From the second he stepped out onto the floor, he was ushered into the office. He barely had enough time to mentally prepare himself before he was opening the door and standing face-to-face with Peter Hale. His boss was leaning against his desk and checking his watch.

“Stilinski.” Peter greets him stoically.

“Sir.” Stiles returns.

“I have a job for you.”

He breathes a sigh of relief that he isn’t in any trouble. He is filled with curiosity, though, at what Hale could be assigning him. “Anything.”

“As you have probably heard, we have a bit of an issue.”

“Yes, sir.”

Peter walked over to look out of the window with his hands clasped behind his back. “Because of this, Malia is in a very vulnerable position. While she is more than capable of taking care of herself, I would prefer she be accompanied for the foreseeable future.”

“Like… a bodyguard?” He asked.

He hummed in agreement. “If you want to call it that. I would like it to be you.”

“Me?” Stiles was shocked.

“Yes.”

“What about Martin and Argent? I feel like they would be better suited to this position.” He tried to explain this as diplomatically as possible, not wanting to anger the man in front of him.

“They’re tracking the source of the leak.”

“What? How did they get that?” He asked, bitterly.

That is practically his dream job. He has always been more interested in the detective and undercover aspect of the job. Unfortunately, he came a year after Lydia Martin, who has a genius level IQ and a strange ability to find people. That meant she practically had that position locked down before he got a shot. That, and she was close with Allison Argent, who was one of their best assassins, which meant he never got to go on jobs with her, either.

Peter turned around and crossed his arms, staring directly at him. “Martin has been in charge of keeping an eye on the Alpha Pack since they started appearing more frequently. We have reason to suspect they are somehow involved. She brought Argent as her second.”

That made sense, as much as it pissed him off. “Fine.”

“Listen, Stilinski. This causes me physical pain to say. I am asking you because you are one of the best. This will be more difficult than you expect. Can I count on you?”

Sure, Peter Hale complimented him, which was practically unheard of. That definitely helped his ego. But something about the dangerous glint in his eyes and his tense posture told Stiles that he didn’t really have a choice. Not that he usually did, of course. Everyone knows if you want to keep your job, and your life, you do what Peter Hale tells you to.

He found himself saying “Yes, sir.”

“Good. Her flight lands in approximately fifty minutes.” His whole demeanor changed in an instant, as he visibly became less aggressive, and sat back at his desk to look at papers.

“I’ll leave right now, sir.” He doubted Peter even heard him.

He backed up carefully, hesitant to take his eyes off the man.

The second he left the room, Scott was at his side. “What was that about?”

“I’m in charge of Malia Hale until they catch the leak.” He admitted.

Scott’s eyes widened. “No way, dude. That’s huge.”

“Yeah.”

Scott faltered. “You… don’t seem excited?”

Stiles ran his hand through his hair. “No, I am. I’m glad I’ve reached the point where I have enough of his respect that I can get assigned to this. I just would so much rather be trying to catch this asshole than babysitting a twenty four year old girl.”

Scott tried to be optimistic. “Maybe she’s nice?”

“She’s Peter Hale’s daughter.” Stiles pointed out.

“… yeah, that’s a fair point.”

He checked his watch before sighing. “Speaking of which, I have to go pick her up from the airport now. From now on, my life is Malia Hale 24/7.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> loose idea of the penthouse: https://www.worldofarchi.com/2012/06/910-swallows-landing-by-smith-designs.html 
> 
> the dress malia found: https://www.pinterest.com/pin/790170697099136776/

There is something implicitly awkward about waiting for someone at the airport. The time you’re allowed to spend in the pick-up line is only just long enough for people to walk outside, and nothing more. He really doesn’t want a ticket. He also has no clue whether he should just sit in the car and wait or stand outside. He chose the latter, so he is currently leaned up against his Jeep, fiddling with his phone, and waiting for Malia Hale to make her appearance. He hoped he would be able to recognize her. Derek Hale had sent him a photo, but it seemed outdated. From the looks of it, it was her twenty-first birthday. Which was at least three years ago.

He noticed her a few minutes later. She had a big black rolling suitcase and a grey duffle bag thrown over her shoulder. She was wearing black leather boots, black jeans, a white crop top, and a jean jacket. Her long hair was in a ponytail, and she was wearing gold aviators. Stiles didn’t know how to describe her. She looked like someone who would never look at Stiles twice, under any other circumstances. Even after her cross country flight. She must’ve known who to look for because she made a beeline for his Jeep.

“Kylie Tate?” He asked, using the fake name he had been given.

“That’s me.”

He gave her a small smile. “Okay then.”

Before he could even offer, she was shoving her bags at him and climbing into the passenger seat. He stood there for a minute, slightly taken aback, before loading her bags into his backseat. After a minute, he was getting back behind the wheel.

“So – just checking – you’re Malia?” He asked, turning to look at her.

“Yep.”

“I’m Stiles. Stilinski.”

She pushed her sunglasses onto her head and rolled her eyes. “Lovely to meet you.”

“So-” He started to talk, but she cut him off.

“We don’t need to do the whole ‘small talk’ thing. I don’t need or want supervision like a small child.”

He took a deep breath and tried to contain his rapidly growing frustration with her. “Well, guess what? I’m not eager to be in charge of looking after you either. I would actually rather be doing literally anything else. But neither of us have any input, so I would appreciate you not making this as unpleasant as possible.”

“Whatever.” She looked at him warily. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-six.”

“Any pets?”

“A goldfish named Jaws.”

Her eyes narrowed in disbelief. “You’ve got to be kidding. Favorite movie?”

“Star Wars. What is the point of this? You just said you hated small talk.”

“I need to make sure you’re not some thirty year old creep.”

He pointed out, “I work for your dad, so-”

“So, you should be well aware how many creeps there are in that organization. Lucky for you, no creep could come up with answers that embarrassing.”

“That’s fair.” He sighed and tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. “Can I at least tell you what’s happening tonight and tomorrow?”

“Fine.”

“So, I’m dropping you off with your dad tonight. You should be safe there, but he told me you would leave given the opportunity.”

She snorted. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Because of that,” he eyed her warily. “I am picking you up on my way to work tomorrow, and you’ll have to just follow me around.”

“Riveting.”

“Remember what we said? About being unpleasant?”

“Yeah, yeah.” She waved him off.

“Anyway, my day isn’t that boring. Well, it starts out with an hour of paperwork, which does suck. Then, I have to help train some of the new recruits. They’re going to be terrible, so that should at least be fun. Then, I’m going to work with some of our equipment. Usually, I’d do a small job or two but, you know…”

She leaned against the door and crossed her arms. “I guess it could be worse.”

“Great.” They slipped into a tense silence. “Uh… I like your jacket.”

“Thanks.”

Not knowing what to do to make this better, he asked, “Do you want to put on music?”

“Nope.”

They spend the entire drive in silence. Stiles can’t help but fidget in his seat, and she kept sending him dirty looks. Finally, after the longest car ride of his life, he was pulling up to the back of her building. There, he could see the silhouette of Derek Hale waiting for them, likely to make sure Malia made it all the way inside.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

She didn’t even acknowledge him as she started to leave. “Okay.”

Before she could fully climb out, he said “Please don’t try to leave. I really don’t have the energy to come find you. At least promise to wait like, 24 hours.”

That got her to smile, if only a little bit. “Fine. I promise.”

He drove off and did his best not to scream. Not to be dramatic, but this would probably be one of the hardest assignments of his life. She couldn’t even tolerate him for two seconds, not that he was much better. And, the more time they spent together, the worse it would be. He considered calling Scott to complain, but ultimately decided against it. He would see Scott tomorrow and, right now, he really needed some sleep.

He got home, brushed his teeth, and immediately flopped onto his bed. He didn’t even bother changing out of his clothes – he had only been wearing them for a few hours and he had practically no energy. He watched tv for about an hour before falling asleep.

His alarm blared at 6 am the next morning, which is an hour early than he usually had to get up. He figured he would give himself some extra time to mentally prepare for the day and to account for his change in schedule. It’s a good thing he did, because not even ten minutes later, he got a text.

_Be here in twenty. -MH_

Delightful. She couldn’t even give him a warning.

Traffic is brutal this time of day and he has to drive through the city, so he was forced to leave immediately after getting the message. He hadn’t even had time to drink coffee.

He gets there with two minutes to spare. He met her in the back parking garage, where he exchanged his Jeep for a more covert black Audi. She climbed into the passengers seat, without any sort of greeting or acknowledgement. This didn’t surprise him. She was wearing a long red dress with white polka dots and a white baseball cap. Not the best clothes for attempting to stay hidden, but he isn’t even going to try to fight with her on it.

“I need some coffee.” She announced as he pulled out onto the street.

Seeing a Starbucks a block ahead, he agreed. “Me too. We can stop.”

“Finally. That is the first thing you’ve said that I actually don’t hate.” She gave him a wide, fake smile.

“Okay, still rude, but I’ll take it.” He rolled his eyes and got into the drive-thru and turned to look at her. “What do you want?”

“Caffe Americano, with an extra shot.”

He snorted. “Oh, so you’re that kind of person.”

“What is your order? A snickerdoodle hot chocolate? Kid’s temperature?” She looked at him expectantly.

“The fact that you even know that exists ruins any point you were trying to make.”

Her mouth fell open and she didn’t respond, until she finally grumbled, “Shut up.”

Before he could respond, it was their turn to order. “Welcome to Starbucks, what would you like to order today?”

He repeated what Malia had told him and got his usual. “One Caffe Americano, with an extra shot, and a vanilla sweet cream cold brew. Both venti.”

“Will that be all?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“You can pull up to the next window.”

He couldn’t go anywhere yet, due to there being a car in front of them, so he reached for his wallet where it sat in the cup holder. He cracked it open and saw that he only had about twenty dollars in it. He had his credit card, of course, but he’s been too scared to check his bank account recently. Rent in California is hardly affordable, no matter how much Peter pays him.

Malia doesn’t say anything, so he just grabs the cash and shoves his wallet into his pocket. “You pay next time.”

“Fine.” She muttered, continuing to text.

They pulled up to the window, and Stiles nudged her. She makes a face before pulling her hat down, shielding her face from everyone inside the building. It was probably an unnecessary precaution, but they weren’t taking any chances. He gets passed their drinks and pulls away as soon as possible. Malia took off her hat, and Stiles was impressed by how her hair stayed perfectly curled. She put a straw between her teeth and swirled around her coffee. He tried to dig in the bag for his own straw but came up empty handed. Of course. Because Malia had hot coffee, which means she wouldn’t have been given one.

“Uh, that’s my straw…” He tried to point out.

She looked at him before sticking it into the hole in the lid. “I don’t want to mess up my lip-gloss.”

“Fine. Whatever.” He rubbed his face, already feeling a headache coming on.

They drove the rest of the way to the building in dead silence, like the night before. Stiles hated driving without music or conversation or something to stimulate his brain. Not that Malia knew that. Or cared.

He was so relieved when they reached Hale Industries that he practically kissed the floors. It would be so much easier for him to function now that he could occupy Malia with other things. It genuinely felt like babysitting at this point. Making sure she is fed, happy, and not running away. He also would have Scott, which makes things better. As if on cue, he heard the familiar sound of Scott’s sneakers smacking against the tile.

“Stiles!” Scott called out, running up to them.

Stiles grinned at the sight of his best friend. “Hey, Scott. This is Malia.”

“Nice to meet you!” He told her, sticking out his hand.

She shook it, before turning back to Stiles. “Is he another stalker my dad hired?”

“Wow, she’s a delight.” Scott laughed.

“Believe it or not, this is progress.”

Scott checked his watch and sighed. “Well, I have to go. I lost a bet with Lahey, so now I’m on dry cleaning duty this week.”

“Yikes. Good luck with that.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He started to walk away, before turning back to Malia to give her a wave. “It was nice meeting you!”

“You, too!” She waved back.

Stiles scoffed. “Oh, so you just have a problem with me?”

“Yes.” She nodded in agreement, before adding. “Plus, he was cute and optimistic. Like a little puppy.”

“So what am I?”

“Sarcastic and jaded. And you look like some sort of weird tree frog.”

He put a hand to his chest and mocked hurt. “Okay, that hurt a little bit.”

“Your ego can take it.”

They got into the elevator and headed to his floor. When they stepped out, practically every pair of eyes was on them. Everyone must have heard about his assignment. While he shrunk under the attention, Malia seemed to light up. She walked past their desks with her head held high, sunglasses on, drink in hand. As much as he despised her right now, he had to admit that he had a lot of respect for her in this moment. He trailed along behind her until they got to his desk near the back.

“Can you sit here for an hour while I finish this?” He asked her, gesturing to Scott’s empty spot across from him.

She looked at him cautiously. “Will it really only take an hour?”

“Probably less.”

“Then fine.” She leaned back in the chair and began playing on her phone.

After about forty-five minutes, he was done with his work. He looked up, only to see her seat empty. He was confused, before noticing she was sitting on Kira’s desk, chatting with the other girl. He sighed with relief before walking up to them.

“Hi, Kira.” He greeted.

“Hi, Stiles!”

He looked towards where Malia was sitting next to her. “So, you’ve met Malia?”

“Yeah, she’s so fun!”

Malia nodded with a big grin. “Yeah, Stiles! I’m so fun!”

“You’re exhausting.” He deadpanned.

“It’s just too easy to mess with you.” She laughed and nudged Kira. “I told you.”

“Kira.” Stiles whined. “You’re supposed to be my friend.”

“Sorry?” She tried but didn’t seem sorry at all.

He scowled at her playfully, before turning back to Malia. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yeah, sure.” She rolled her eyes at him, again, before standing up. “Bye.”

“Bye!” Kira gave her a big smile before turning back to her computer.

They headed downstairs to the basement level, where they kept some of their equipment. It looked similar to a standard gym, with treadmills lining the wall and weights in the back. However, there was a large mat in the middle that they used for combat practice, and a separate, sound-proofed section to the right with an indoor gun range.

On the mat, three people stood talking to each other. One girl, two boys. While they all stood up tall, chins raised with confidence, Stiles could see the way they nervously tapped their fingers and scuffed their shoes against the floor. Stiles felt a brief twinge of sympathy – they couldn’t have been older than 21 and Stiles remembered how nerve wracking his first day was.

They all froze when they saw him enter, stopping mid-sentence. They seemed to subconsciously line up facing him, trying not to convey their nerves.

He turned to Malia. “You can sit off to the side there, for now.” He gestures off to the side.

Much to his surprise, she didn’t complain. She did as she was told and sat on the metal bench. She watched him carefully as he stepped up in front of the rookies with his arms crossed and his head held high.

He raised his eyebrows expectantly. “Okay. Names?”

“Liam Dunbar.” The blond boy introduces.

“Hayden Romero.” The girl next to him says.

The last one introduces himself as “Mason Hewitt.”

“Hewitt. Where did you leave off with McCall last night?” He asked, looking intently at him.

“He told us the ground rules and instructions. We didn’t do any actual training.” He stuttered, before tacking on a “Sir.”

Stiles had to admit, he didn’t mind the sound of that, so he didn’t bother correcting him. “Alright. Have any of you held a gun before?”

“Yes, sir.” Hayden informed him.

“No.” Liam said.

“Me neither.”

He sighed. He had his work cut out for him today. “Good to know. Romero, grab some goggles and ear plugs. You can show me what you know.”

For now, they are working with simple targets. They are being trained in form and accuracy at this point. Once they get the hang of it, he’ll start teaching them where to aim on the person shaped targets. He knows where to shoot to incapacitate a person, cause serious injury, and to kill them. They’re not ready for that, though.

She did as she was told and stepped up in front of the target. Her stance was a bit wide and her shoulders too squared, so he was afraid she would end up injuring herself from the kickback, but she ended up fine. Her bullets all hit the target, which is honestly more than he expected.

“Not bad. Your form could use some work, but definitely a strong start.” He had to admit, he was mildly impressed.

She shrugged and took out the earplugs. “Yeah, my sister was a deputy.”

“Oh, I feel that.” His father used to be a sheriff, after all. “Dunbar and Hewitt. Step up and watch me first.”

He puts in his own pair of earplugs and steps up to where Hayden just was. He gestured for them to stand off to his side and pay attention. He dramatizes getting into position so they can clearly see how they need to stand. He aims for the target and shoots five bullets, all hitting the bullseye.

“Now that you’ve seen it, take your spots and I’ll instruct you.”

He led them up to the long line of places used for firing practice. They each got their equipment and got into place. He spent the next hour adjusting their form, mainly, and giving them tips on how to get closer to the center. Hewitt almost dislocated his shoulder by how he was firing, but Stiles was luckily able to quickly fix that. That would’ve been bad.

Eventually, their time was up. They were definitely in better shape than they were a few hours ago, but they’re still rough. Though, he probably wasn’t much better when he first started. Either way, they’ll get better with time. At least he doesn’t have to teach them hand-to-hand combat like Scott. That would be so much worse.

He walked up to Malia, who already was itching to leave. She whistled mockingly. “Oh, so you’re the real deal.”

“Obviously. That’s why you’re with me.” He started to head towards the elevator, leaving her to follow behind. “Shockingly, the people here want you alive.”

She didn’t reply to that comment, instead asking him. “Can we go already?”

“Yeah, I’m done.” He brushed his hair from his eyes and pushed his sleeves back up to his elbows. “Do you need to stop and see Hale before we leave?”

“Definitely not. Let’s just get out of here.” He pressed the elevator button for the first floor.

About ten minutes later, Stiles was pulling into the back parking lot. Malia practically threw herself out of the car before it stopped moving. He parked it, before following her into the building. They took the elevator up to the Hale penthouse, where he was supposed to stay with Malia for the rest of the day.

When he stepped into the room, he was floored. He had been here once or twice throughout the years, but it never fails to astound him. There were massive floor to ceiling windows, light hardwood floors, and dark cabinets. Before he could fully take it all in, he was following Malia up the stairs to their next level. She pulled open the door to her room and sat on the bed.

“You’re still here?” She asked him raising her eyebrows.

He sunk into a grey beanbag chair. “24/7 supervision. Hale is in his office, so I’m here.”

“Are you kidding me?” She groaned, kicking off her boots.

One of her shoes accidentally, or maybe on purpose, flew towards him, but he dodged it without as much as a blink. “I wish. I have a full DVR at home right now.”

“What if I have to go to the bathroom?” She asked, raising his eyebrows.

“Then go? Don’t make this weird.”

She stood up and walked out of the room, grumbling, “He doesn’t talk to me for like six years, then pulls me out of New York, the fucker, and now…”

With her gone, he was able to look around the room. It was almost eerie. The room was perfectly clean, with not a single speck of dust. There also were no pictures. Nothing with any of the Hales, no friends, nothing. The dent she just made on the lavender comforter and the shoes on the ground were the only proof that someone actually lived here.

Before he had the urge to start snooping through her stuff, she was back. She seemed to have calmed down some, but Stiles didn’t want to test that.

She flopped on her bed. “Can we please go out and do something?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea.” He glanced at his phone, checking for messages.

She looked at him with exasperation. “I can’t believe I have to get permission from my dad to leave my room.”

“I can’t believe I have to make you do that.” He fired back.

She waved him off and pulled out her phone. She typed out a text faster than Stiles thought was humanly possible, before hitting send. They both sat there, patiently waiting for Peter to respond. After a few minutes, his reply popped up.

“He said yes!” She sat up, immediately pulling her shoes back on.

“Where are we going?”

“Shopping.” She told him, sliding her purse over her shoulder, and heading towards the door.

He stood up and followed her out of her room. “Wow. I thought this couldn’t get any worse.”

“Now who is being unpleasant.”

“Touché.”

They walked back down the stairs, and Malia grabbed the white baseball cap and her aviators off of the counter. Anyone who knew her could still tell that that was obviously Malia, but hopefully it will work well enough to prevent anyone from the Alpha Pack, or whoever it is, from recognizing her.

They opted to take the Jeep, as he didn’t have access to any other car at the moment, and they drove the Audi from Hale Industries. Not that he minded, of course. He loved the Jeep. But Malia frowned and started picking at the ripped leather.

He drove her to the mall just outside of the city. It was still close enough to get back-up if he needed it, but it was much smaller and less recognizable than the one close to her penthouse. He hoped this would be enough. Luckily for them, this one was pretty crowded, so it was easy for them to blend in among the other shoppers.

As they idly walked down through the mall, Stiles tried to keep as close to her as possible without also making her want to punch him. It was a very fine line. It also meant nothing when she saw a pretty dress in the window of a store and took off running, leaving him to chase after her.

“Malia! What are you doing?” He asked, finally catching up to her.

“Look at this dress.” She told him, pointing at the display.

He gave her a look. “Why did we have to run?”

“I wanted to see it.” She shrugged and stepped inside the store.

She wandered around each of the racks, viewing each dress carefully. Stiles honestly thought most of them looked the same, but his opinion doesn’t matter much. Eventually, Malia finds the dress from the window. It had a green skirt, a black cropped top that connected to skirt with black mesh, and embroidered flowers going up the side. He had to admit, it was pretty. He eyed the price tag, though, and almost choked.

“Holy shit, this one dress costs more than my apartment.”

“Next time just try being rich. Now wait here while I try it on.” Before he could respond, she had skipped back towards the dressing rooms.

He rolled his eyes for the umpteenth time today, and leaned against the wall, waiting for her to return. After a few minutes, he hadn’t heard from her, so we went towards the back to check on her.

“Are you here? Kylie?” He called out her fake name, trying to find where she was.

He walked down the row of dressing rooms, only to see all of them empty. He scanned the store one last time, praying he had just missed her, but there was nothing. She was gone.

“Fuck.”

He took off running through the store, practically sliding out into the rest of the mall. He couldn’t see her amid the rest of the shoppers. He looked further down the mall and noticed a door to the outside. Knowing Malia, the first thing she would do is catch a cab, so he decided to check there first. He ran towards there, fighting through the people walking the opposite direction. When he gets near there, he notices the back of a familiar red dress slipping through the doors.

He busted through the exit, looking each way for her. He stood quietly for a moment, trying to see if he could hear her. He fumbled for his phone and dialed her number, hoping she didn’t have it on silent. Luckily, he was able to hear a ringing from just around the corner.

The sound was cut off and he heard the sound of a man grumbling. His heart rate spiked, and he slowed down, hand reaching for where his gun was hidden in his waistband. He pressed up against the brick wall, creeping towards where Malia was. When he finally turned the corner, he was relieved to have found her.

Except she was held back by a man holding a gun to her head.


	3. Chapter 3

Malia’s eyes were squeezed shut as the barrel of the gun dug into her temple. Stiles immediately pointed his gun at the man, mind carefully analyzing the various ways this situation could end. He knew without a doubt he could hit the man without injuring Malia, but he was more concerned about what his reaction time was. The last thing he wants is for him to shoot her before the bullet hit him. He and Scott had faced a similar predicament before, but he had no idea how well Malia would be able to fight off her attacker.

“Okay… let’s just put the gun down and no one gets hurt.” Stiles said, keeping his voice level.

“Does he mean us?” A new voice asked, and he heard the click of a safety being removed.

Behind Stiles was a man exactly identical to the one in front of him. Cropped dirty blond hair, standing about 6’1”, and broad shouldered. They were dressed casually, in khakis and v-necks. This meant they had probably been following Stiles and Malia around, waiting for an opportunity. That’s never good.

“I think he does.” The first twin responded.

“I do.” Stiles clarified.

“In case you haven’t noticed, both of you are at gun point. Are you honestly arrogant enough to believe that you will be living through this?”

Stiles rambled, trying to think of a way out of this situation. “Yeah. I’m pretty confident in my abilities. I’ve been told that makes me insufferable and pretty hard to work with, but I think-”

“Shut up!” The second twin sighed in exasperation. “God, do you ever stop talking?”

“Not really. Another issue of mine.” He joked, hands gripping the gun even tighter.

“Can we all just-” Malia tried, but she was quickly cut off.

“No. You don’t get to talk.” Twin One told her, pressing the gun even tighter against her, causing her to let out a small gasp.

“Malia…” Stiles told her carefully, trying to keep her calm.

She looked at him and they made eye contact. He expected to see fear or resignation, but there was nothing even close to that. If anything, she looked determined. She looked angry. Her hands gripped tighter against the arm Twin One was using to hold her against him. Stiles realized what was about to happen and tried to subtly shake his head. She ignored him subtly making a three with her fingers. Then a two. Then a one.

He guessed they were doing this.

Malia judo-flipped Twin One over her shoulder, knocking him to the ground. At the same time, Stiles spun around, kicking the gun out of Twin Two’s hands. While it probably would’ve been less risky to just train his own gun on him, he didn’t have the time to be at a standstill. With the gun gone, Stiles clearly had the upper hand. Twin Two tried to fight him, but Stiles had been training in hand-to-hand combat for years. It was close, but eventually, Stiles was able to slam his head against the brick wall, effectively knocking him out.

He quickly turned around to see where Malia was fighting with Twin One. She was much more inexperienced than him, so she couldn’t land any hits, but she was skillfully dodging every one of his jabs. Somehow, she had managed to rid him of his gun, which was now lying next to Stiles’ feet. He picked it up quickly before pointing it at Twin One. With Twin One now focused on Stiles, Malia was able to give him a quick kick to the chest, knocking him to the ground. Before he could stand, Stiles was next to Malia, his gun pointed directly at him. He passed Malia the second gun, just in case.

“Who do you work for?” Stiles asked him angrily.

“You think I’m going to tell you?”

“I think you could be…” He lowered the gun until it was resting against the man’s forehead. “persuaded.”

“No.”

“Malia.” He told the girl, not moving his eyes from the person in front of him. “Remove my phone from my back pocket. Call the person number three on my speed dial. Tell him we have a 96 and send him our exact location.”

“What is this? Clean up crew?” He taunted.

Stiles’ frown turned into almost a sadistic smile. “You wish it was. You should’ve realized what a bad idea this was.”

“I have to admit. We may have underestimated you, Stilinski.”

His blood ran cold. “How do you know who I am?”

“We know everything.”

Before he could say anything else, Stiles hit him with the end of his gun, effectively knocking him out as well. He stood up and dragged his body across the alley, next to where his brother was still out cold.

“They should be out, at least until Lahey gets here.” Stiles informed Malia, wiping some on the blood off his hands.

“I think I need to sit down.” Malia muttered, swaying on her feet.

She stumbled against the wall, looking ill. Stiles rushed up next to her, catching her before she could completely faceplant. He eased her into a sitting position against the wall.

“Woah. It must be the adrenaline.” He told her, checking her for injuries.

“Probably.”

“You were badass. I didn’t know you could fight.”

She managed to roll her eyes at him. “Of course I can. You think my dad just sent me out into the world completely helpless?”

“Yeah, that should’ve been obvious.” He chuckled. “But still.”

She smiled cockily. “Yeah, I was pretty great.”

Seeing that she seemed to be feeling better, he slumped down next to her, the gun still gripped tightly in his hands. He intentionally sat on the side of her that was closest to the twins, just in case. The concrete wasn’t comfortable by any means and was still slightly damp from the rain earlier that day, but there wasn’t exactly better options.

He kept an eye on the street, making sure no one would see them. Luckily, because the twins were attempting a murder, they had chosen a pretty secluded spot. That should keep anyone from interfering. Though he didn’t want to push his luck, so he hoped Lahey would get here soon.

At that thought, he realized what would happen when they did have to go back to Hale Industries. Nothing good, that’s for sure.

“I’m gonna die.” He groaned.

“Why would you die?”

“Peter will probably kill me.” He glanced down at the gun in his hands. “At least it’ll be quick, maybe just a gunshot to the head?”

“What? He won’t kill you.” Malia told him incredulously.

Stiles just stared at her. “Uh...yes he will. That’s kind of his whole thing. You make a mistake, better update your will.”

“I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.” She looked down, slightly sheepish.

He couldn’t help the bitterness and anger that seeped into his voice when he said “What did you think would happen? You’d evade me at the mall, get in a taxi, hop on a plane, fly back to New York, and everything would be good?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“You obviously weren’t! Because look what happened! If I had been like four seconds later, you would be brain matter on the walls.”

This caused her to finally snap and yell “I get it now! Everything is fine!”

One of the twins stirred from the other side of the alley. Stiles immediately went on high alert. He pushed himself off the wall and into a crouched position, gun aimed directly at him. He was directly between the man and Malia. After a few minutes of silence and no movement, Stiles assessed that he was still mostly unconscious. He sunk back next to Malia.

“Let’s not jinx anything, okay?”

“As much as this pains me to admit, I am sorry.”

He sighed in resignation, rubbing his forehead. “Just… please stop? You almost died, Malia. You’re still in danger. You will continue to be in danger for the foreseeable future. Stop apologizing and stop fighting me.”

“Fine. I can do that.”

“Great. That’s progress.”

Before she could respond, they were interrupted by a yell. “Stilinski!”

“Lahey?” He called back, standing up.

Seconds later, Isaac Lahey and his team rounded the corner. It consisted of him, Erica Reyes, and Vernon Boyd. They all worked together to extract people who had been incapacitated, bring them back to Hale Industries, and interrogate them. Isaac and Boyd were good at playing good-cop-bad-cop and Erica had perfected the art of seduction. That, and none of them were above a little torture. They were extremely good at their jobs.

“Is that them?” Erica asked, eyeing them carefully.

“Yep.”

“Great, come on.” Isaac gestures to the other two.

Boyd, who was easily the strongest, lifted up one of the twins, while Erica and Boyd dragged out the other. Stiles kept watch, as they loaded them into the back of their van. It was painted black with a furniture company logo on the side, so just in case anyone saw them, it couldn’t be traced back to Hale Industries. That, and an unmarked van is significantly more questionable than a regular one.

Boyd got into the back with the twins, for when they inevitably woke up on the ride back to the building, while Isaac got into the drivers seat and Erica climbed into the passengers side. They gave Malia and Stiles a small wave, before pulling away.

“We need to report back to Hale immediately. Let’s go.”

Stiles was practically shaking as he got into his car. All he could think about was what would happen with Peter. He knew this wasn’t good. There was a girl, Meredith Walker, who made a mistake a while ago. She went in to talk to Peter about it and came out in a body bag. Lydia Martin saw it happen, and he believed her. Plus, there are people who have just mysteriously gone missing after a job gone wrong. Stiles was sure that was about to be him.

When he and Malia finally entered into Hale Industries, he wasted no time getting to Peter’s floor. The last thing he wanted was to make him even angrier than he already was. He was sure he knew what had happened, as Isaac and his team had arrived before him and Peter had a habit of knowing everything anyway. 

When he and Malia reach the entrance to Peter Hale’s office, they were immediately rushed inside. That wasn’t a good sign. Peter was almost always busy, so he normally had to wait before speaking to him. This was confirmed when they stepped inside to see Peter standing with his arms crossed. His suit jacket was draped across his desk and his sleeves were rolled up, which Stiles had only seen happen a handful of times. Only when Peter was about to get his hands bloody.

“Report.” Peter commanded him.

Stiles stood straight up and faced forward, repeating almost robotically “Malia Hale was exiting the back doors of the Stonestown Galleria. She was ambushed by a man, late 20s but possibly early 30s. He held a gun to her head. When I attempted to eliminate the threat, the twin brother of the first man appeared as well. We were able to take down both men with minimal injuries. The two men are now in Lahey’s custody for interrogation.”

Peter quirked up an eyebrow. “And where were you at the beginning of this?”

“I was following her.”

“Then how could she have been ambushed?” Peter interrogated, taking a step towards him.

“She had a significant lead on me. I was attempting to catch up to her.” Stiles chose to omit the fact that Malia was actively trying to sneak away from him. It was bad enough that he had to face Peter’s wrath, there was no use getting both of them in trouble.

“A lead? You have been training for ten years and you couldn’t catch up to her?”

“Sir-” Stiles couldn’t finish that sentence because Peter threw him up against the wall, pinning him to the door.

“Stop talking. I’m trying to decide what to do with you.” He hissed, looking angrier than Stiles had ever seen him. Stiles squeezed his eyes shut, preparing for the inevitable.

“Let him go.” Malia interrupted.

“Malia-” Peter started, but she cut him off.

“It was my fault. I ran off, and he was forced to come find me.”

Peter’s grip on Stiles tightened, and he was beginning to have trouble breathing. “He shouldn’t have let you run off.”

“I went to try on a dress and snuck out of the dressing rooms. What was he supposed to do? Follow me in there?”

“Well-”

She scoffed. “Absolutely not. If Stiles hadn’t found me when he did, I would be dead right now. Trust me. You should be thanking him, not threatening his life.”

“You think I should thank him.” Peter repeated with disbelief. “What you cannot possibly understand is the amount of trust and training I put into the people who work for me. His job was to keep an eye on you. If you went into that dressing room, he should’ve been right outside waiting for you. You’re naïve, Malia. You could’ve been dead.”

“But I’m not. Because like it or not, he saved my life. Therefore, he did his job.”

“Really? You expect me to trust him with you again?” He looked back towards Stiles, who was attempting to hide his fear and maintain some sort of dignity.

“Like it or not, he’s about the only one I trust.” Stiles and Peter seemed equally surprised at that statement.

Peter stood there for a second, his hand moving for his gun, before it stopped. He dropped Stiles and stepped back, leaving him gasping for air.

“Fine. Since this is your first mistake, I’ll let you off with a warning.” He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“Yes.” Stiles hesitated. “They knew who I was. They knew my name.”

Peter stilled. “Are you absolutely sure?”

“100%. He said, ‘we may have underestimated you, Stilinski.’”

“Send Talia in here.” He commanded, pushing Stiles towards the door.

He didn’t hesitate to leave the room with a “Yes, sir.”

He let Peter’s assistant know Peter was looking for Talia, and she scurried off, knowing how bad it would be to keep him waiting. The second she was gone, he felt a panic attack coming on. He’s gasping for breath and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. He hadn’t had one in a while, not since Scott ended up in the hospital last year, and it’s not a feeling he had missed. He doesn’t understand why it’s happening now, maybe just the adrenaline? At this point he doesn’t care about dying. Really all he has is Scott and his goldfish.

“Stiles?” Malia asked, making him blush with embarrassment. The last thing he needs is for her to see him fall apart.

“I’m fine. Just… give me a second.” He waved her off, leaning on the nearest desk.

Malia glanced back towards the door bitterly. “That was super harsh.”

“I tried to tell you.” He managed to say, the conversation calming him down.

“I thought you were being paranoid.”

He rolled his eyes. “I’m always paranoid. And I’m always right.”

“I won’t run off again.” She put a hesitant hand on his shoulder.

He looked up at her, meeting her eyes with a serious expression. “And I swear I’ll never let anyone hurt you.”

“I believe you.”

He cracked a small smile. “Friends?”

“Do you want me to pinky promise?” She teased him.

“Oh my god.” He laughed, but there wasn’t any of the bitterness from the last two days. “We were having a nice, sincere moment and you had to go and ruin it.”

“You’re surprised?”

“I guess not.” He sighed, straightening out his jacket and steadying himself. “Let’s get some food. This has been a horrifically long day.”

“I second that.” She sighed, twisting one of the rings on her fingers. “What do we want?”

He looked at her pointedly. “I hope you have food in your fridge because we are absolutely not going out anywhere. Maybe ever again.”

“I probably don’t. Do you?”

“Probably not, but I also can order take-out to my apartment.” He shrugged, heading towards the elevator.

“Great. Let’s go there.” She told him, following behind him.

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you sure? It’s not exactly a multi-million dollar penthouse.”

“Stiles.”

“Fine.” He relented.

He shot Scott a quick text explaining what happened, as they made their way to one of the cars in the garage. The last thing he needed was Scott crying in the middle of combat with the newbies because of whatever rumor people would inevitably spread around. He was given another, completely different, car to take now. He’ll miss his Jeep, but he knows it’s for the best. At least it’s not forever.

After about twenty minutes, they make it to his apartment building. It’s almost pathetic, how different the worn down brick looks compared to her sleek penthouse. He tried not to think about it too hard. At least until they actually enter his apartment.

“Okay close your eyes.” He said, stepping in front of her.

She gave him a confused look. “What?”

“Close your eyes! I can’t leave you out in the hallway, but I would like to have a minute to at least kind of clean.”

Luckily, he kept it pretty clean. There were articles about the Alpha Pack littering his floor, candy wrappers on the table, and an old bowl of snacks, but nothing he couldn’t clean in about thirty seconds. After that was taken care of, he deemed it as ready for Malia Hale as it could be.

“Okay you can open them.”

“Well, this is… cute.” She said, carefully.

“You said you wouldn’t say anything!” Stiles whined.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She tried to cover her laugh but failed. “I just didn’t know what to expect.”

“At least I keep it clean. You should see Scott’s apartment. It’s disgusting.”

“I can imagine.”

He gestured towards the fridge. “You can look around and see if there’s anything you want to eat.”

A few seconds later, he heard her complain, “Seriously? All you have is three cheap beers, milk, and a bag of moldy cheese.”

“That asshole drank my Diet Cokes?” He sputtered, hopping over the back of the couch to double check. He knew he shouldn’t have agreed to letting Scott come over for groceries.

“Why don’t you have any food?”

“It’s all in the pantry. I don’t generally buy food that can go bad.” He opened up the door and looked in his pantry. “I’ve got Ramen, chips, and… Ramen but beef flavored instead of chicken.”

“This is pathetic.” She deadpanned.

“Well, I’m not here all that often! Do you want to order something?”

She peeked around him to look in the pantry as well. “No, I actually have never had Ramen. I’m kind of intrigued.”

“You’ve never had Ramen?” He looked at her incredulously.

She just stared at him. “Look at me, Stiles.”

“Yeah, fair.” He shook his head, still in disbelief. “Then I guess I’ll be cooking some Ramen for us. Beef or chicken?”

“Which one is better?”

“There is a very intense debate. I personally prefer beef, but that might just be because that’s the kind my dad bought when I was little. Scott refuses to eat anything but chicken.”

“I’ll try the beef then?” He took two beef packets and walked towards the stove as Malia continued, “Wow, that sounds so gross. ‘Yes, give me the cow flavored noodles, please.’”

“I’m begging you to stop.” He filled the pot with water. “But good choice.”

“Do you have any chairs?” She asked, looking around.

“I live alone.” He pointed out.

“That’s not an excuse.”

She looked around for a moment, debating where to sit, before boosting herself up on his kitchen island. She swung her legs with a fake-innocent smile, as he saw where she was.

He started to complain, “Come on. Were you raised by wolves?”

“It was this or the floor.”

“I hate you.”

She watched him intently as he cooked their food. It wasn’t anything interesting, just boiling water and adding noodles. But he supposed she hadn’t had much experience with this. He knew for a fact she had grown up with private chefs, rather than someone cooking something cheap right in front of her. He hoped that she didn’t hate this in comparison.

“Is it… a packet?” She asked, picking up the small beef flavoring.

“Malia. This cost me exactly 99 cents. It’s not exactly fine cuisine.”

“My expectations just get lower and lower.”

“You asked for this!” He reminded her.

“And I’m regretting it.”

He plucked the packet from her hand and dumped it into the pot of noodles. After about a minute of stirring, it was done. He scooped it into a bowl for each of them. He passed her hers, before leaning against the counter next to her.

“Here. Careful, it’s hot.” She took a hesitant bite of it, heeding his warning. Her eyes lit up. “So?”

She stared down at it. “It’s so much better than I expected.”

“It has a sodium count of like, a million, so it should be.”

She took another bite and grinned. “Wait. I really like this.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ll attribute it to your cooking skills.”

“Why thank you.” He took a little bow, making her laugh.

They finished eating and moved to the couch. Malia didn’t seem eager to return back to the cold penthouse where Derek and the other Hales were probably waiting for her, and Stiles honestly couldn’t blame her. Instead, he turned on an old spy movie and pointed out the inaccuracies, making her laugh. It was nice. Sure, he talked to Lydia, Kira, Allison, and sometimes Isaac, but the only person he really hung out with was Scott. So he didn’t mind having Malia around now.

Though once it was over, the sun was setting. He checked his watch and saw that it was around 7:30. The Hales would all definitely be there by now and definitely want her back. The last thing he wanted was to anger them even further. “It’s getting late, I should get you home.”

She sighed. “This is going to suck. I’ll probably have to sit through a lecture from Derek now. Have you ever had one? He perfected it like, ten years ago. It’s like ‘I’m not mad, I’m just disappointed.’ Except you can tell he’s mad and he knows this. That’s how he gets you.”

“Yikes.”

“I know. But better to get it over with now.”

They walked out to the car in silence. When they got in, Malia connected her phone to the speakers and played her playlist, making him smile. While it wasn’t necessarily the type of music he liked, it wasn’t bad. She talked to him some about it, which was definitely an improvement from all the other car rides where she had refused to speak to him.

When they pulled up to the back door of the building, Derek was waiting for them like usual. Malia must’ve texted him when they left, which was probably a good thing. He looked pissed though, so Stiles was glad he wouldn’t be there for this particular conversation. Malia groaned as she climbed out of the door. She started to walk towards Derek but hesitated and turned back towards the car. Stiles rolled down the window so she could talk.

“Oh and Stiles?” She asked, leaning through the open window.

“Yeah?”

“Tomorrow, I want to know what’s happening.”

His brow furrowed with confusion. “What’s happening?”

“Yeah. I want to know exactly why I’m here and exactly what this means.”

“So you can do what?” He asked, hesitantly.

She gave him a wicked grin. “Catch this son of a bitch.”


	4. Chapter 4

Stiles paced a hole in his hardwood floors, as Malia sat on his couch in front of him.

“I should not be telling you any of this.” He grumbled.

“But you’re going to.”

“But I’m going to.”

He had agreed to tell her everything. It was probably – actually, almost definitely – a bad idea, but she deserved to know the truth. It was obvious Peter was keeping things from her, even though her life was at stake. He wasn’t arrogant enough to believe he knows better than Peter Hale, because that would be ridiculous. But Malia wanted to catch the traitor, and honestly, that’s exactly what Stiles wanted to do too, so it was mutually beneficial. Except that he knew this was a terrible idea.

He opened his mouth, about to talk, when an idea struck him. “Hold on.”

He rushed into his room to get what he needed. A big whiteboard covered in old scraps of tape and the black dry erase marker attached to it. His crime board. His dad used to have them around his office and the house when Stiles was younger, to help him figure out cases. It was a habit Stiles had picked up, as they were actually pretty useful. And fun to make, not that he would ever admit it. He wheeled it out of his room and out in front of the couch.

“You have a white board?” She asked, raising her eyebrows.

“It’s a crime board.” He clarified.

She still seemed confused. “A crime board?”

“I use it to tape up various pieces of information, which helps me figure things out. Right now, it’s going to be used for the Alpha Pack.”

“Alpha Pack?”

“We’ll get to that later.” He waved off her questions before turning back to the board. “Anyway, I just haven’t put all my stuff back on it since we got all this new information, so… white board.”

“What’s it for?”

“Diagrams. This is about to get really complicated.”

“I’m ready.”

He started to draw, including all of the information she would need. The structure of Hale Industries, various people that work with him, and his possible suspects. After a few minutes, it was covered in his chicken scratch handwriting, arrows, and little pictures. To be fair, it looked better than some of his previous presentations. He once tried to convince Scott that Derek Hale was secretly a werewolf and man, _that_ was a messy board.

After he was done, he pointed to his diagram and began to explain, “At the very top of all everything is Peter, obviously. Beneath him is Talia Hale, who is his second in command. Then we start branching out. There are three different groups. The more business side of the office, my group, and basically my group but better.”

“Three groups. Got it.” She confirmed, looking at his hastily drawn picture.

“Business takes up about 90% of the company. You know, finances, records, etc.”

“The boring stuff.”

“Exactly. My group is split into five levels. Level One is the newbies and people who will do an odd job here or there but have no commitment. Like how Whittemore will pop in every so often for some extra cash but knows practically nothing. Level Twos are people who have spent 1-4 years working for Peter. They are more reliable than the level ones, but still suspicious. Anyone can be undercover that long, so we treat them with care. Level Threes are generally people who have been here for 5-8 years. They are getting the chance to prove themselves, now that they have shown they can be trusted. This includes Kira, Reyes, and Boyd. Other people too, but none you’d recognize. Then there is me- Level Four. That’s people who have worked for him for over 8 years. We have proved ourselves competent, reliable, and fully trustworthy. That’s me, Scott, Lydia, Allison, and Isaac. Level Fives are the Hales, and only the Hales. Derek, Cora, and Laura. People who are fully emerged in any and all projects. Family business, and all.”

“Right. Family business.” She muttered, looking down at her lap.

Stiles wanted to smack himself. “Oh. Sorry.”

She shook her head and gave him a strained smile. “It’s fine. Hold up – you said you’re twenty six when we first met. Yet you’re a level… four? Either you’ve been doing this since you were eighteen, or you’re a liar.”

“Sixteen, actually.” He clarified.

“What? Why?”

He waved her off. “Different story. Next question.”

“Okay none of you are older than 35. How is that possible?”

“Well, for starters, people in this line of work don’t exactly have a long lifespan. But the older, more experienced people are separate from us. They’re group three. They do the big jobs. Like exposing politicians, crumbling massive organizations, crossing borders. Real deep undercover stuff. I think we have about nine or ten out right now. But also… never mind.”

She scooted forward, hands clasped together with excitement, literally on the edge of her seat. “What? You have to tell me now.”

He lowered his voice even though no one else was around to hear them. “Peter’s influence is… slipping. A lot of people believe he shouldn’t be in charge anymore. Many of them have gone off to be with the Alpha Pack, like Morrell, sought protection elsewhere, like Harris, or just quit altogether. Peter’s circle is growing smaller by the second, and this new leak isn’t helpful.”

“Oh God.”

“Yeah. This is a lot bigger than me or you. We are talking the verge of a real war.”

They both sat in silence, thinking about the weight of those words. It was true – the weaker Peter got, the more opportunities the Alpha Pack would have to take over. If that were to happen, it wouldn’t be easy. Peter would not go down without a fight, even if that included shoving everyone who works for him into the crossfire. While Stiles supposed that’s what they all signed up for, it didn’t make it any better. There would be lots of casualties. And lots of destruction.

“So, what are your theories?” She prompted, breaking the silence.

“I have six possible options.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Six?”

“I’m being thorough!” He defended.

“Fine, who are they?”

“Derek Hale, Talia Hale, Alan Deaton, Chris Argent, Matt Daehler, and Lydia Martin.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Okay, you have two of my family members on there, so tread carefully. They may suck, but it’s probably not them.”

He made a face. “Something about Derek has just always bugged me.”

“ _Stiles.”_

“Fine, the odds of it being one of them are slim. But I have some solid theories about Talia.”

“Just keep going.”

He moved onto his next point. “Deaton – always seems to know too much about everything. Dumbledore and Obi-Wan Kenobi vibes. It’s unnerving. I definitely feel like he’s not telling us something.”

“I haven’t met him.”

“We’ll need to come up with an excuse to see him then.” He paled at the thought. Despite how long they had known each other, Stiles wasn’t kidding. Something about Deaton was off. But he moved on, deciding to table that anxiety for later. “Chris Argent – Allison’s dad. He isn’t technically apart of the organization but acts an associate to Peter Hale. Before I joined, they were apparently archenemies. Then, all of a sudden, they weren’t. I haven’t been able to get the details on that. Not knowing makes me nervous.”

“Got it. That does seem suspicious.”

He pointed to the next name on the board. “Matt Daehler – creepy. Can’t seem to move up from Level Two even though he’s been here for six years.”

“Why is that?”

“Weird and generally untrustworthy. Though, as much as I hate to admit it, it’s probably not him. He doesn’t have enough clearance to spread this kind of information.”

Malia leaned to the side to catch the last name scrawled on the board in his messy handwriting. “And then Lydia. I thought you two were friends?”

“We are. Well, as much as you can be with her. She’s pretty secretive and very dedicated to her work. Just the fact that she seems to find Alpha Pack members quickly and efficiently seems weird. She always seems to know more than what she says.”

“What are the odds that it’s her? Is it worth investigating?”

“They’re low. About 5%. But that’s not nothing. Her and Allison are in Georgia right now following a lead, so there isn’t anything we can do right now, anyway.”

He pasted pictures of each of the suspects up next to their names, so that Malia could connect them to people she’s seen before. She growled when he put up the Hales, but he was confident they were at least worth investigating, so he ignored her. Then, he put up some pictures and articles about the Alpha Pack on that side of the board, so she could see the most recent information. Stiles had already read through it dozens of times, but he figured it couldn’t hurt. He stepped back to view his work.

“See? Crime board.”

“I like it.”

He grinned and threw his hands up in victory. “Thank you! Scott makes fun of it.”

She got up from the couch and stood next to him, so they could both look at what he had pasted up so far. “So, we just add any new information to it?”

“Precisely. My dad always said it was much easier to put together the pieces of the puzzle when they are all out in front of you.”

She turned to look at him. “What does your dad do? You don’t talk about him much. Either of your parents, actually.”

“He was a sheriff in Beacon Hills, which is a few hours away from here. My parents are… both dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Happened a long time ago.”

His mom died 18 years ago of a disease called frontotemporal dementia, and his dad 12, after being killed on duty. Not fun. That lead to a two year stint in the foster care system before he was brought in by Derek and became involved with Hale Industries. Not that he was open to discussing any of his backstory with Malia.

“Anyway, Alpha Pack?” She asked him, trying to ease the tension.

“Right! Rival group. Similar to us and our biggest source of competition. Peter and their leader, Deucalion, are constantly trying to expose the illegal stuff the other one does. So far, neither has gotten close because they are both very good at covering their tracks. But with all of this, Deucalion has a real shot. It’s got everyone on edge.”

“Makes sense.”

He capped his dry erase marker. “So, I think that’s everything.”

“What now?”

“Deaton.”

They spent about an hour coming up with a plan for how to get information from Dr. Deaton. It wasn’t easy, but Stiles felt like they had a pretty solid plan. It should work. He hoped it would work.

The next day, they put it to use. The first thing the pair did when they arrived at Hale Industries was head to Deaton’s office. Stiles put his acting skills to use, seeming exasperated with her, which was much easier than it sounded. Malia had to seem extremely inconvenienced by him, which was also an easy task for her. The whole ‘getting along’ thing was fairly recent for the two of them.

“Do you remember the plan?” He asked her, for probably the eighth time in the last hour.

“Of course I do. It’s really simple.”

“It’ll work.” He said, more to himself than her.

“I know. That’s why I don’t understand why you’re so stressed.”

“Because like I said, he knows everything. I don’t want him to see right through me and then talk to Peter.”

She waved him off. “It’ll be fine.”

They walked into the office, and immediately Stiles could feel his heart rate jump. He was almost positive he was sweating through his t-shirt. Light grey was probably the worst color to pick because he was sure he would end up with nervous sweat stains. Gross, but it would not be the first time that happened. Or probably the last.

Deaton’s office was small, but comfortable. It had a metal table pushed off to the side, stacked with various natural medications. He knew Deaton kept the real stuff in the cabinets on the other side of the room. In the middle was an operating table. Perfect for when Deaton either needs to stitch up minor wounds or dig out a large piece of glass buried into someone’s shoulder (that only happened once, and it wasn’t his fault, okay?). Currently, Deaton was hunched over his desk filling out paperwork. He looked up when Stiles and Malia entered.

“Mr. Stilinski! I am surprised to see you here.” Deaton told him with a smile.

“Great to see you as always, Deaton. Though, I’m actually not here for me.”

“Oh?” He said but didn’t seem surprised.

Malia stepped out from behind him. “Hi, you must be Dr. Deaton.”

“And you must be Malia.” He looked between the two of them confused. “What brings you here?”

“I have a headache and _someone-_ ” she looked pointedly at Stiles. “Insisted we come here.”

“Well, I don’t want her to have a brain bleed or something and die. That would be pretty bad for my career.” He raised his arms defensively.

“Have you hit your head recently?” He asked Malia, ignoring Stiles.

“Well-” She started, but he cut her off.

“Yes, she has. The other day, when—did you hear what happened?”

“I did.”

He shrugged. “Figures. Anyway, her head hit the ground.”

“It was barely a tap.” Malia countered.

Stiles pressed on anyways. “ _Anyway_ , I wanted to bring her here just in case.”

“Okay, then. Malia, hop up on the table.”

So far, so good. If there was one thing Stiles and Malia were good at, it was bickering. Deaton didn’t seem to sense any ulterior motives, so Stiles counted that as a win.

First, Deaton shined the light in Malia’s eyes, to make sure her pupils were a normal size. Then he checked her heartrate, blood pressure, reflexes, and pretty much anything else that happened at a normal check-up. Malia complained at first, but eventually it tapered off. After that, he headed back over his desk to do some analysis, probably to make sure everything was okay. Of course it was, but Deaton didn’t know that. Stiles took this as his golden opportunity to question him.

Stiles sidled up next to Deaton. “So, Deaton, how’d you hear about what happened?”

“People around here gossip.”

He hummed in agreement. “So, I know you know everything that happens around here.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Stiles raised his eyebrows. “I would. Anyway, have you heard anything about Lydia’s progress?”

“Progress?”

Stiles leaned in close to Deaton and started to gesture with his hands. “You know… about…”

“Right.” Deaton looked at him skeptically. “Nothing concrete. Not that I can share any of my knowledge with you.”

“Not even off the record? I gotta admit Deaton…” He glanced towards Malia, who was acting like she couldn’t hear them. “I’m worried. I don’t know anything about what’s going on and I don’t know how I’ll protect her. This is the biggest thing Peter has given me and I’m fumbling around in the dark.”

For a second, it looked like Deaton was going to talk, but instead his eyes narrowed. “Stiles, I don’t know what you’re getting at here, but I would encourage you to step back. Nothing good can come from this.”

He faked innocent. “Come from what?”

Deaton didn’t answer, instead turning away from him. “Malia, you seem okay.”

She hopped off the table. “Great. Must just be dehydration. Like I said.”

“Better safe than sorry.” Stiles pointed out.

“You’re about to be sorry. I wanted something from the vending machine.” She grumbled, glaring at him.

“Fine, then let’s go.”

“Fine!” Malia turned to the doctor. “Bye, it was nice to meet you.”

“You too.” Deaton turned to him. “Stiles.”

Stiles nodded at him. “Deaton.”

They leave Deaton’s often, trying not to run away, because that would be bad. They did, however, move at a relatively fast pace. As much as Stiles wanted to return home and process this new information, he still had a full day of work. So, he and Malia headed up to his floor, so he could check his new assignments. Luckily for him, Peter had given him the transcript and footage of the interview with the twins to analyze. Apparently, their names were Aiden and Ethan Steiner, and they did work for the Alpha Pack. He was able to pick up a few bits of information here and there, but nothing big. That took him a few hours, and after that he had another shooting lesson with the Level Ones. Once that was done, he could finally leave for the day.

The first thing Stiles and Malia did was head back to the Hale penthouse. The last thing Stiles wants is to give the Hales even more reason to hate or distrust him, by keeping Malia out of the house for long periods of time. Plus, he definitely doesn’t want them to find out what they are doing. That would be very, very bad.

They decide to wait until they are safely locked away in Malia’s room before they discussed what happened. They had been driving Peter’s car, and Stiles wouldn’t put it past him to tap their conversations. Plus, that gave them some time to think it over. So Stiles sat on the end of Malia’s bed awkwardly, while she laid down on her stomach behind him.

“He was totally on to us.” Malia groaned.

Stiles sat at the end of her bed and threw up his hands in resignation. “Like I said! He knows everything!”

“That was almost scary. I would’ve bought it.”

He shook his head bitterly. “It would’ve worked so much better if he didn’t know me. He knows I want to do detective work and he knows I want to be all over this case.”

After a few seconds, she said, “We should’ve sent Scott.”

“We totally should’ve sent Scott!” He complained, before sobering up. “Is it just me or does he seem suspicious.”

“What do you mean?” She turned to look at him.

“He said ‘I don’t know what you’re getting at here, but I would encourage you to step back.’ That’s real fuckin’ suspicious.”

“Yeah. It is.” She thought for a moment before asking, “So, Deaton at the top of our list?”

“I think so.”

“Is Chris Argent next?”

He sighed. “Unfortunately, no. He is completely off the grid unless he shows up here. I have no way of contacting him.”

“So dead end?” She asked dejectedly.

“Dead end.” He confirmed.

“Now what?”

“We wait. Because if they’re guilty, they always make a mistake.”


	5. Chapter 5

_Hey, Lydia. It’s me. Stiles. Stilinski. I just wanted to see how you and Allison were doing. Are you having fun in Georgia? I heard it’s lovely this time of year. Anyway, just let me know how things are going and if there is anything I can do to help. I would be more than happy to offer you my assistance._

He left the voicemail a few days ago and finally got a response.

_Hi Stiles. As lovely as it is to hear from you, don’t even start. Keep your filthy hands out of my job and do what you’re supposed to be doing. As much as I appreciate your selflessness and altruistic motives, I don’t need your help. Goodbye._

“Yeah, I don’t think Lydia will be much help.”

“Do you try to get involved in her jobs a lot?”

“Almost every time.”

“I’m shocked.” She deadpanned sarcastically.

Stiles had just picked up Malia a few minutes ago and played her his voicemail from Lydia. Despite the fact that they hadn’t gotten new information, Stiles was unwilling to just sit and wait for something to happen. Based on how Malia asked him every couple hours if he learned something new, he knew that she felt the same way.

At this point, Malia had been in California for a week. It was very stressful, obviously, as he knew the Alpha Pack was onto them and Malia had almost been killed. Plus, new information could be revealed any moment putting more people in danger. But despite that, he and Malia were on much better terms. That was good.

“Without the information from Lydia, any of our leads having to do with the Alpha Pack are at a standstill.”

“So now we wait around until we can contact someone else?”

“Nope.” He pressed the gas, driving them out of the parking lot. “Now we go to work.”

She groaned. “Again?”

“Yeah. It happens every day, you see.”

“You’re obnoxious.”

He pulled out onto the street as he and Malia continued to talk about the day ahead. They had developed a routine – he picks her up at 7:30, he works until 5, they head back to Malia’s apartment, they order food, and he leaves at around 8 when either Peter, Derek, or Laura are done for the day. While having his day last over twelve hours isn’t necessarily ideal, it could be worse. Malia doesn’t seem too miserable either.

Well, that also depends on whether she has had coffee.

“Wait! Coffee.” She tugged on his arm, pointing to the Starbucks.

He rolled his eyes. “Really? Now?”

“Please?”

“Fine.” He pulled into the drive-thru. “Same thing as last time?”

“Yep. And two cake pops.”

“Got it.”

He rolled down his window and spoke into the microphone, “A grande snickerdoodle hot chocolate, a venti caffe americano with an extra shot, and two cake pops.”

“I knew it!” Malia cheered.

“Maybe I just ordered it because you planted the idea in my head.”

“I don’t buy that for a second, Stilinski.”

He scoffed at her. “Fuck off.”

She ignored him and pressed something into his hand. “Here.”

“What’s this?”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “My credit card?”

“Obviously. Why?” He asked her, staring at the back platinum card resting on his palm.

“You told me last time I had to pay.”

He blushed, embarrassed. “Oh – I didn’t mean-.”

“It’s fine. I’ve seen your shitty, sad apartment. I’ll pay.” She waved him off.

He hesitated. “Are you sure?”

“Are you kidding? You have exactly $6 in cash in your wallet.”

“How would you know that?”

She shrugged. “I snooped through your stuff.”

“You…?” He wanted to be mad, but he decided to take a deep breath. “You know what, I’m letting it go.”

He pulled up to the window, where their food and drinks are ready. Like usual, Malia covered her face in order to prevent anyone from seeing her. She still complained about it, just like she had her first day, but she had gotten used to it at this point.

“This one is for you.” She handed him one of the cake pops.

“For me?”

“As a thank you. Now take it before I regret it.”

He was at a loss for words. He tried to speak for a few seconds before sincerely telling her, “I appreciate that.”

He parked in the lot and cautiously led her inside. They checked in at the front desk, before heading back up to Stiles’ floor. He had almost a full day of analytical work before another lesson with the rookies. They were getting better, but still not great. That was a problem for later, though.

When they stepped off the elevator, Malia left his side to go talk to Kira. Stiles headed to his desk, where Scott was already seated across from him. He was on the phone but was done right when Stiles sat down. Stiles had to admit, he missed working with Scott. He was used to them doing jobs together multiple times a week. They were partners, after all. But now that he’s been assigned to Malia, that has been his sole focus. Stiles makes a mental note that, after they catch whoever is doing this, he and Scott were ordering pizza and having a movie marathon or something.

“So… how’s it going? Are you still miserable?” Scott asked him, looking towards where Malia was talking to Kira.

Stiles turned to face the girls as well. “Honestly? I kind of like her.”

“You wanted to kill her like a week ago.” Scott pointed out.

“People grow.”

“You texted me at 4 am saying you wouldn’t be surprised if she was secretly Medusa.”

“Scott.”

He continued, “You then described in vivid detail-.”

Stiles cut him off. “I know! But it’s different!”

“I’m glad.”

Stiles then asked, “How are things with you and Kira?”

“What about Scott and Kira?” Malia asked, appearing behind Stiles.

“No, Stiles-,” Scott tried to tell him, but Stiles ignored it.

“Scott’s massive crush on her.”

“Stiles!” Scott yelled.

Malia grinned. “What are you waiting for? Make a move, Loverboy.”

“I don’t even know if she likes me back.” He rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly.

“She does.” Stiles and Malia confirmed at the same time.

“She told me!” Malia continued.

Scott’s head shot up. “What?”

“I talked to her for a while my first day and she confessed to it.”

“Wow.”

Stiles shooed him towards Kira’s desk. “Well, what are you standing around talking to us for? Go talk to her!”

Scott didn’t hesitate. He almost tripped over his chair, he moved so fast, but luckily, he was able to stay on his feet.

“Ah, young love.” Malia sighed.

Stiles wiped a fake tear from under his eye. “They grow up so fast.”

After a few excruciating hours of paperwork and analysis, it was time for him to go see Dunbar, Romero, and Hewitt. They had been practicing and now know how to hit their targets with some level of accuracy. At least, that’s what they were supposed to be doing. That meant that he now had to teach them how to hit moving targets. It was one of his least favorite things to do, as they almost always mess up. He came about three inches away from being shot in the knee cap a few years ago.

When he and Malia reached the basement level, the three of them were already suited to shoot. Perfect. That meant he could actually start on time.

“Okay, today we will be working on moving targets. Now, this is fairly difficult, so we aren’t working on accuracy. I’m just here to explain to you how to hit one in general.” He announced, pacing in front of them.

He did his best to walk them through the basics. How to calculate where their opponent would be, where to aim their guns, and other things such as that. He had them practice with Nerf guns at first, which he found to be very helpful. That way, they weren’t practicing their aim by shooting stray bullets around the room. Romero actually did really well, and Dunbar wasn’t too bad either. It was mostly Hewitt he was worried about.

After that, he allowed them all to try it with real guns. The weight, kick back, and firing technique is obviously much different with a real gun, so they needed as much practice with them as possible. After watching them for about a half an hour, he thought that he might actually be able to dish out a few compliments. Thinking that jinxed it, of course.

Hewitt – of course it was him – shot a bullet too wide, nailing the side of their water cooler. In a matter of seconds, about eight gallons of water were leaking across the floor and leaving the mats slick.

“For fuck’s sake…” Stiles groaned, heading towards him.

He squeaked and backed away from him. “I’m sorry!”

All the anger flooded out of Stiles’ body, and he just waved them all off. “Just… we were almost done anyway. You can all go; I’ll clean this up.”

“Are you sure?” Hewitt asked, stepping cautiously towards the mess.

Stiles put on his best smile, that probably looked more like a grimace. “Yeah, go on.”

He followed them all out. While the three of them headed upstairs whispering to themselves, he turned to the right and headed deeper into the basement, muttering to himself.

“Where are we going?” Malia asked, trailing along behind him.

“Storage room to find a mop or something.”

He finally ended up near the back room where he knew they kept cleaning supplies. Before he could enter, he heard something that made him stop in his tracks. It was a familiar voice, though he couldn’t quite place it. Despite that, he could tell they were talking about something important. Otherwise, they wouldn’t be all the way down here. While he didn’t necessarily want to eavesdrop on a private conversation, with everything that was going on, he was going to.

“Wait.” He whispered to Malia, as he got as close to the doorway as he could, without alerting the person inside.

“What?”

He put an arm out behind him to block her. “Shh. Stay back.”

He was almost positive it was Cora Hale’s voice. “Laura. Can you hear me? … Yes, I’m alone. … Yes, I’m sure. So we’re meeting at the old warehouse? Okay, I’ll be there soon. And he’ll be there?... I _am_ alone, just being careful. The last thing we want is someone picking up on who we’re meeting. Or you know Peter, he could easily be tapping our phones… Leaving now. Bye.”

“Oh my God.” Malia must have heard it too.

Stiles muttered to himself. “Cora and Laura? They weren’t on my list.”

Malia looked affronted. “I’m sure they aren’t talking about Deucalion.”

“Then what are they doing, Malia? Planning a surprise birthday party?”

“They could be!” She defended.

“Malia.”

“I know!” She snapped, before burying her head in her hands. “It’s just… they are the only ones who ever gave a shit about me, okay? The second I was born, Peter thrust me into the hands of Talia. He didn’t want me, Stiles. Do you get that? Instead, I grew up around Laura, Cora, and Derek. Laura, who always remembers my birthdays and was the only one who showed up to my graduation. Cora, who was practically the only friend I had growing up. And Derek, who stood up for me every time Peter and Talia were manipulative. _They’re_ my family, Stiles. Not Peter.”

Seeing her distress, all of his anger deflates. “God, Malia. I’m… I’m sorry.”

“It’s not them. It can’t be.”

For a second he considered trying to hug her, but he didn’t. Instead, he tried to come up with a solution. That’s what he did best, anyway. “We’ll follow her then. We won’t jump to any conclusions. Who knows? Maybe the ‘he’ is Derek, and they are doing something perfectly reasonable. I’ve done plenty of things I don’t want Peter to know about, and I’m not committing treason.”

“I hope so.”

“Good.” He stuck out his hand for her, and she took it. “Now let’s go.”

They followed Cora through the maze of hallways, until the reached the back door leading to the parking lot. Stiles shot one last questioning look at Malia, and she nodded, assuring him that she did want to pursue this with him. While he definitely didn’t want to put her in any danger, he also couldn’t leave her here. And he had to follow this lead. Who knew when another opportunity would come to catch them in the act?

Before they left, he pulled out his phone.

_Hey Scott. Found a lead. Going to check it out._

_Be careful._

_Aren’t I always?_

He wanted to make sure he updated Scott. Just in case things went sideways. He also decided to leave a voicemail for Lydia just in case this information could help her further. Or help him out if he got murdered in the process. Plus, if he was wrong, maybe saying he was working with Lydia would ease the punishment.

They got into the car and got onto the street a few seconds after Cora. They didn’t want to be too obvious, but with all the traffic, it was hard to tail her. He’s had lots of practice though, so he managed to keep her in sight until they left the city. After that, he eased back, so they wouldn’t be directly in her line of sight. When it came time to get to the more rural area, Stiles had to let her leave his vision, trusting he could follow tire tracks. To his relief, he found the warehouse and Cora was no where in sight. He parked amidst the trees, hoping that in case Cora left before them or anyone else showed up, there wouldn’t be any proof of them.

They tried to find a way to subtly make it into the warehouse without alerting Cora or being seen. Stiles noticed an open window a few feet above them, likely leading to a second floor. Eyeing the dumpster below it, he nudged Malia and gestured to it. Luckily, she was able to pick up on what he was implying. He decided to go first, just in case. He climbed on top of the bin, grabbed ahold of the window ledge before pulling himself up with ease. He slid into the opening and dropped down. Like he had assumed, he was on a second floor landing. Malia entered about thirty seconds after him.

The floor was open and only took up about half the space. In front of him, there were piles of boxes, and then there was a railing, showing everything below. He and Malia shuffled forward, crouching behind the boxes so they could survey what was happening without being caught. The warehouse was completely empty, aside from some spare boxes and rusted machinery. The large surrounding windows were all frosted and broken, preventing anyone from being able to look in. Honestly, as far as secret meeting spots go, this one wasn’t too bad. So, props to the Hales and the Alpha Pack. Below them, Cora paced back and forth, yelling into her phone.

“Where are you?... No one did!... What?... How do you know they followed me? Stilinski and Malia have been sneaking off for about a week now, why do you think it’s my fault?” Stiles and Malia exchanged a nervous glance. “Wait… they’re here?” Cora spun around, narrowing her eyes, probably looking for them. “I’m gonna go. I’ll let you know what happens.”

“Malia…” He whispered.

“I know.”

“Malia? Stilinski? Are you here?” The two stayed silent. “Seriously, are you following me? Why?”

She continued to call out to them, sounding genuinely confused. Stiles honestly considered that they had maybe made a mistake before he remembered that Cora had been training even longer than him. He knew what he heard, and he trusted his instincts. He didn’t, however, trust Cora’s motives. Besides, either way, she was getting closer to them. He could hear her climbing the stairs. There was no way he or Malia could make it out without being caught.

“She’s too close.” He told her.

“I know.”

He turned to look at her. “Malia.”

“No.” She immediately shook her head.

“I have to.”

“Why?” She said, almost too loudly.

Knowing that what he was about to do might lead to him getting seriously injured or killed, he tried to memorize every inch of her face. The slope of her nose, the dark brown of her eyes that shined with tears, the way lose pieces of her hair perfectly framed her face. Eventually, he met her eyes and gave her a weak smile. Her grip on his hand was practically breaking bones, but he didn’t care. He tried to anchor himself to that sensation.

“Because we know! I’m sorry Malia, but this is it. Cora and Laura are working with Deucalion. And so now, if Cora finds us, we are dead.”

“But… she wouldn’t…”

“Maybe not. But Deucalion would. So, I’m going to step out and you are going to stay put.”

“You aren’t thinking this through.”

He gave her a crooked grin. “I never think anything through. That’s how I work.”

“Please.” She practically begged him.

Her footsteps were drawing nearer with each passing second. In less than a minute, she would find them. He had to act fast, or else they were both dead. She was currently stopping to check behind each of the boxes and corners of the upper floor, which at least bought him some time. He lowered his voice to an almost unintelligible whisper, trying to make sure Cora didn’t hear them.

“Malia? Remember what I said? After that day at the mall?” He stared into her eyes, gripping her hand. “I said I would never let anything happen to you. I’m keeping that promise.”

“Stiles, you can’t.”

He knew he wouldn’t have another chance to do this, so he leaned forward and pressed his lips to hers. He hadn’t realized before this moment how long he had been waiting to do that, but it was perfect. Well, given the circumstances. She kissed him back with such a ferocity, he almost couldn’t maintain his balance. His hand went up to cup the back of her head, while she gripped the front of his shirt. After a few seconds, he pulled away. He gave her smile and pushed back some of the hair from her face.

“Stay here and stay quiet. I’ll be okay.”

And he stepped out into Cora’s line of vision.


	6. Chapter 6

Stiles was in so much pain. He blinked himself out of unconsciousness, trying to remember what had happened to him. The fact that he had even passed out in the first place was not a good sign. Then it all came back to him. Protecting Malia, Cora grazing his right shoulder with a bullet so he was forced to drop his gun, and her knocking him out. None of that was good. He took a deep breath and finally got enough strength to fully open his eyes and assess his situation.

Cora Hale was seated in front of him, casually picking at a hang nail. Her personal pistol was resting in her lap, while a larger shotgun was propped up against her chair. She hummed an innocent little tune as he let out a light groan. He was tied to a metal chair, meaning he couldn’t physically break it, like they had been trained to do with wooden ones. He was restrained across his chest, his hands, and his feet. So, no real chance of escaping his bonds. Dammit. It really sucked when the person who was holding you captive had the same training and knowledge that you did.

He then looked at his surroundings. He couldn’t spot Malia anywhere, so that meant that Cora probably hadn’t found her. Hopefully, she had gotten an opportunity to escape. He honestly had no idea what she was doing right now.

Cora leaned forward in her chair to look at him. “Okay, Stilinski. What are you doing here?”

“I thought I was following a lead.” He tried to shrug casually, but between the graze of the gunshot and being tied up, it didn’t work very well.

“You thought I was betraying Peter? He’s my uncle!” Cora defended.

Stiles looked at her, looked towards where he was stuck, and looked back up at her. “… you have me tied up right now.”

“I needed to interrogate you.”

“And you still expect me to believe we’re on the same side?”

Stiles could see her gradually get more frustrated. She stood up and, without a moment of hesitation, hit him across the face with the butt of her gun. He could feel the skin on his cheek split, drops of blood leaking down his face. His cocky demeanor quickly disappeared as he snarled at her, spitting blood out of his mouth. Cora smiled, her expression practically dripping with superiority and condescension. She leaned in close to him, searching his face for any sort of reaction or answers. He glared back at her, so she rolled her eyes and stepped back.

“Where’s Malia?”

He mentally cheered at that. Cora did not, in fact, know where Malia was. “What does this have to do with Malia?”

“She’s here, isn’t she?” She glanced around.

“Of course not.” He scoffed.

“You expect me to believe that?”

Stiles rolled his eyes. “You think I would risk bringing her into the middle of a potentially dangerous situation? So that whoever is there could potentially use her for leverage? Come on Hale, I’m not an idiot.”

Cora moved forward at lightning speed. She kicked out the front legs of the chair and gripped his shirt tightly. He was currently tipped backwards at a 45 degree angle, the only thing keeping him from slamming against the floor was Cora’s grip on him. Which didn’t make him feel any better. He struggled, trying to bring himself back forward, but Cora made sure he was kept dangling in front of her. She loosened her grip on his shirt, letting him slide back a little farther, just to mess with him. He honestly wasn’t sure how he hadn’t already slipped yet, but he thanked God for that. He didn’t want to find out what kind of gnarly concussion he could get from this. He needed to be as alert and aware as possible.

“Let me ask one more time. Where. Is. She.”

“Why do you want to know?”

The look on Cora’s face softened ever so slightly. “She needs to stay out of all of this.

Stiles saw what was about to happen a split second before it did. While Cora was in Stiles’ personal space, she had failed to notice Malia Hale sneaking up behind her, with a wooden plank in hand. When the moment presented itself, Malia swung the board, knocking Cora to the floor in one hit. From the looks of it, she was out cold. Stiles started to fall backwards, but right before he hit the floor, Malia grabbed the chair, and leaned him back onto all fours. He sighed with relief.

“Too late.” She practically growled at Cora.

“Malia!”

She looked around, rapidly. “We need to get out of here. I called Derek, but I think Cora might’ve had backup coming.”

“Okay, can you get this rope off of me?” Only then did she seemed to notice how securely tied up Stiles was. She made quick work of undoing the many bonds around him. He stood up and rubbed at his sore wrists. “Thanks.”

They turned to look at Cora’s limp form splayed out across the floor. Stiles immediately went and retrieved his gun from her, as well as disarming her of her own weapons. He immediately felt better with the familiar weight in his waist band. Even without a weapon, he knew Cora was still dangerous, so he refused to take his eyes off her. He also made sure to keep himself between her and Malia. While he knew that the odds of her going after Malia were extremely slim, he was not willing to take that chance. Malia, for once, didn’t fight him, instead choosing to grab onto his arm.

“What do we do with her?” She asked him, cautiously.

He didn’t have a chance to answer her, before they heard the sound of footsteps rapidly approaching. Stiles fully pushed Malia behind him, drawing his weapon. He wasn’t sure if it would be backup for Cora or Derek finally showing up. He didn’t know exactly what happened on the phone between Malia and Derek, so he couldn’t count on it being the latter. He wasn’t exactly in the best shape for a fight, but he didn’t really have a choice.

Luckily, the familiar voice of Derek Hale called out, “Stilinski?”

“We’re over here!” Stiles responded.

Derek stood next to them, looking down at Cora. His face fell from a look of anger to one of betrayal. “Is that… Cora?”

“Her and Laura are working with someone else. I think it’s Deucalion.” Stiles informed him.

“What? It can’t be…”

Malia put a hesitant hand on her cousin’s shoulder. “Trust me, Derek. I didn’t want to believe it either.”

He sighed and rubbed his face. “Alright. I’ll bring her in.”

“Is there anything we should do?”

“Don’t say anything about this to anyone. Not Scott, not Lydia, not Allison. I’ll talk to Peter. And, as always-”

Stiles was able to finish the sentence for him. “Don’t talk to Hale unless he talks to you first.”

“Exactly. I’ll work on finding Laura.”

Derek picked up Cora’s body and carried it out to his Camaro. Stiles was hesitant about letting Derek be involved in this, as Cora and Laura are his sisters, but there wasn’t much he could do. Derek was related to Peter as well, so he couldn’t assume that family determined his loyalties. Plus, Derek was ranked above Stiles, so he couldn’t prevent him from doing anything anyway. Stiles didn’t feel great about it, but that might be the adrenaline and his general suspicion towards people.

He and Malia followed Derek out of the warehouse and headed towards their own car. Malia immediately stuck her hand out for the keys.

“Let me drive.” She demanded.

He shook his head. “Absolutely not.”

“Stiles! You’re injured!”

“I’ve done this before.” He defended.

“That doesn’t make me feel better.”

He tried to ignore her and grab the door of the car, but the tear in his shoulder made him visibly wince. Not great for his argument.

“No. Give me the keys.” Malia pushed.

He caved and moved around to the passenger’s seat. He hated not being the one driving. Scott always let him do it when they were together – it gave Stiles a sense of control. Despite that, he has asked Malia to trust him so many times recently, that the least he could do is return the favor. She just saved his life; she should be more than capable of driving them out of there.

Malia drove them back to Stiles’ apartment, glancing over at him every two minutes to make sure he was fine. In all honesty, he’s had worse. He doesn’t like being treated like he’s made of glass. And, while his shoulder may ache and he may be bleeding, he doesn’t have any serious injuries.

After about thirty minutes, they were stumbling through his front door.

“Stay here. I just need to get this stitched up.” He gestured towards his couch and headed into his bathroom.

She ignored him, instead choosing to follow him. “You’re going to do this yourself?”

“I do it all the time.” He waved her off.

She rolled her eyes. “Stiles. I am going to kill you. Sit down.”

Not wanting to argue with her right now, he goes back to his couch and sits down. She continued into his bathroom, returning a few minutes later with medical supplies. She sat down facing him, so she could look over his injuries. She cracked open his first aid kit, assessed what he kept inside of it, before nodding in satisfaction. She pulled out the materials to do his stitches, some antiseptic, and some bandages.

She explained to him, “I’m going to need to bandage your cheek, give you some stitches, and check for cracked ribs. Are you going to be okay?”

“Yeah, for sure.” He knew the drill.

She hesitated. “Just… talk about something. Anything.”

She started looking him over for injuries. First, she pressed along his sides to check his ribs, which were all perfectly fine. Then she moved to the various cuts on his body, seemingly making mental notes about where there were issues. While she did this, Stiles began to do the same to her. Other than a small cut on her forehead, she seemed to be completely fine, which was a relief. Once he did that, he did what she asked, and began to ramble about the first thing he thought of. Which was how he even knew how to patch himself up in the first place.

“I really do know how to do this myself. I remember once, when I was sixteen, I was doing something completely stupid. I had been bounced around foster homes a couple of times, so I was really big on the whole ‘acting out’ thing. I vandalized a water tower?” She looked up at him, shocked. “Oh, that is not even close to the worst story I have. Anyway, I heard the cops coming, so I literally jumped off. Into a tree.”

Her jaw dropped. “You did not.”

He grinned. “I did. Luckily, it was one of the smaller ones, because I’m from a small town, but it still was a dumb idea. Broke my forearm, dislocated my jaw, and needed twenty five stitches across my chest. Look.”

She pulled away from him so he could lift up his shirt and show her. He felt slightly self-conscious – he didn’t really love being shirtless in front of people. It wasn’t that he was out of shape. Quite the opposite, in fact, after years of training. It has just been always something that made him uncomfortable. He started to blush, but she didn’t even seem to notice how he was feeling. Instead, she ran her fingers along the jagged scar spanning from a little below his left shoulder to right below his ribs. Her hands were cold, and he shivered at the contact.

“You… had to stitch this yourself?” Her voice was practically a whisper.

He shrugged and lowered his shirt back down. “Well, yeah. I couldn’t exactly go back to the house and tell these random people ‘Hey, I had to evade the police, so I jumped into the bushes. Can you go spend thousands of dollars to take me to the hospital? Please and thank you.’”

“Stiles…”

He waved off her concern. “It’s okay. It’s my fault.”

“This all happened after your dad died?”

“Yeah?”

She grabbed his hands and shook her head. “Then it’s not your fault. You were orphaned at fourteen. You were doing the best you could.”

“My dad would not like who I am. That’s for sure.”

“No-” She tried to contradict him, but he cut her off.

“Yeah, Malia. He was the sheriff of Beacon Hills. He died on duty. He literally _died_ to make this world safer. And look at me now. Wrapped up in one of the biggest criminal organizations in the country.”

“Stiles. You did the best you could. And you’re protecting me now, aren’t you?” She insisted.

“Well, I-”

He was cut off by her leaning forward and wrapping her arms around him. She gave him a tight hug, her arms stretching all the way around his torso, her hands resting on his lower sides, and her faced pressed against his chest. He didn’t know how to react. He hadn’t been hugged like this in years, maybe? He and Scott would do shoulder bumps and maybe the occasional side hug, but nothing like this. It was nice.

“Oh.” He squeaked out.

She pulled back, and her confident exterior returned. “Now, tell me where you’re hurt.”

She moved onto giving him stitches on his arm. He wasn’t surprised that Cora had only grazed him. If there was any sort of misunderstanding and he had been seriously injured, Peter would be pissed, and Cora would be in trouble. This sort of injury wasn’t seriously detrimental, and he still was perfectly capable of doing his job with it. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt like a bitch when Malia started to thread the needle through his skin. After doing this to himself so many times, he didn’t need any sort of anesthetic – which was good, because he didn’t have any – but it still was a sharp pain. He tried to focus on something else.

“How did you even learn how to do this?” He asked her.

“I took a first aid class.” She responded, not looking up from what she was doing.

He paused for a few seconds before saying, “Oh, you’re serious.”

“Yeah. When I was a teenager, me and my friends all took this so we could be certified babysitters.”

He cocked his head to the side. “See, you say you’re serious, but this doesn’t line up with your personality at all.”

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises. Now, hold still.” She scolded him, repositioning his arm back to where it was before.

A few minutes later, she was done with that. Luckily for the both of them, that was the hard part. Next, she chose to bandage his face. Without any warning, she grabbed his chin and tilted his head to the side, so she could see his cheek. She sighed, and grabbed some of the antiseptic, carefully applying it to his cheek. He shivered at the coolness of it and the light touch of her hand against his skin. She pressed a couple butterfly bandages to his cheek before deeming it good. She held eye contact with him for a few minutes, before pulling away.

“Okay, I’m done.”

In a fleeting moment of confidence, he teased her. “You’re not going to kiss it better?”

“Watch it, Stiles.” She tried to sound firm, but the quirked up corners of her mouth gave away her amusement.

He checked the time on his watch before asking, “Now what? Should I drive you home?”

“Can I… Never mind.” She shook her head, staring down at her lap.

His eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “No, come on. What is it?”

“Can I stay here tonight? I don’t really want to go back there right now. Especially not after Cora and Laura…” She trailed off.

“Yeah, yeah. Of course.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “Do you want to borrow some clothes? Yours are…”

She looked at her grey tank top, which was stained with various splatters of red. “Covered in blood? Yeah, maybe.” Stiles was confident that at least half of it was his.

“Okay cool. Hold on.”

She stayed on the couch, while he headed into his room. He dug through his drawers, trying to see if there was something small enough to fit her. While he did this, he tried to keep his cool. He knew they had kissed a few hours ago, but he wasn’t sure if that was an actual emotional thing, or a spur-of-the-moment decision based on fear and adrenaline. Either way, it happened, and now she was sleeping over at his house. He didn’t know what to do about that. He finally found some moderately small clothes and slammed his drawer shut, returning to the living room.

“You can shower if you want.”

He gave her the clothes and she headed into the bathroom. While she did that, he changed into a different pair of clothes, too. He wanted to shower as well, but with his injuries and the freshly done stitches, he decided that wouldn’t be a great idea. He threw on a blue t-shirt, a pair of flannel pajama pants, and some fresh socks. After that, he sat on the edge of his bed playing on his phone and waiting for her to be done. He didn’t really know what else to do, and he wanted to curse himself for being so incredibly awkward.

After a little while, she emerged from his bathroom. She was wearing a pair of his black sweatpants and an old Beacon Hills High School t-shirt. He had to admit, the sight of her in his clothes made his heart flutter a little bit. Not that he would ever admit that, of course. Her hair was loose around her shoulders, the hair tie that she had been using earlier now wrapped around her wrist. He realized he was staring and quickly directed his eyes somewhere else.

“I’m surprised you have a hair dryer.” She commented.

“A what?”

She gave him a confused look. “Hair dryer? It’s pretty self-explanatory.”

“I didn’t know I had one.”

“Well, I hate letting my hair air dry, so I’m glad you do.” She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear before carefully folding the clothes she had been wearing earlier.

“I didn’t realize those clothes would be so big on you. Sorry.”

“It’s not a big deal.” She gave him a suspicious look. “Why are you being so weird?”

“I’m not being weird.” He defended, trying to come off as casual.

She looked like she wanted to argue but relented. “Fine.”

Seeing that she was done, he stood up and moved to the door back to the living room. “You can have the bed, I’ll take the couch.”

As he reached the doorway, she called out. “You don’t have to do that.”

He smiled and waved her off. “It’s fine. I don’t mind.”

She shook her head. “Stiles. We can share the bed.”

“… if you’re sure.” He relented.

She hopped onto the left side of his bed, immediately curling up in his blankets. He made sure his door was locked, before flipping off the overhead lights and turning on his lamp. He slid in on her right side, leaning against the headboard. He was excruciatingly aware of the fact that she was next to him in his bed. She currently had her phone out and was texting Derek about what was happening for the night. He considered texting Scott for help, but decided that all the other boy was bound to do was make fun of him. Stiles did not need that right now, no matter how much he probably deserved it after the Scott and Kira Incident from the other day.

He ultimately decided to say, “It’s only 9:00. Do you want to watch something?”

“Sure.” She told him, putting away her phone.

He reached onto his bedside table and grabbed the remote. Malia didn’t have any preferences, so he scrolled through his cable channels to see if anything was on. After some channel surfing, he saw that NBC was having a Friends marathon. That was easily one of his favorite shows, so he decided to put that on.

He turned to look at Malia and gestured towards the TV. “Is this okay?”

“Yeah.” She nodded.

As they watched it, he could feel Malia slowly getting closer to him. He didn’t want to move or make her self-conscious, so he let her do it at her own pace. After a minute or so, their legs were pressed together. A little while longer and they were shoulder to shoulder. By the time they were halfway through the episode, she was completely curled into his side. Her hair was tickling the bottom of his chin and his leg was asleep, but he found that he didn’t mind. His arm was wrapped around her as he absentmindedly played with her shirt sleeve.

The show continued, and he could hear Malia’s breathing even out. He glanced down and saw that her eyes had closed. She seemed pretty steady against him, so he assumed she was asleep. He was feeling pretty tired as well, so he flipped off his lamp. The only issue was that the remote was slightly out of reach. He tried to maneuver himself to reach it without waking her up. That was a difficult task considering their position, but he really didn’t want to leave this running all night. He thought that he had successfully done it, but when the TV shut off, he heard her voice next to him.

“What’s going on?” She mumbled.

He ran his fingers through her hair as he reassured her, “Just turning off the tv. Go back to sleep.”

“Mmhm.” She buried her face into his chest.

He settled in until he was completely laying down. Malia was still curled up against him, her hand loosely gripping his shirt. After the emotionally taxing day she had, he was glad to see her wearing a relaxed expression. He smiled and shifted his arm to a slightly more comfortable position from where she had previously been laying on it. He sighed, before pulling up his covers and drifting off as well.


	7. Chapter 7

The next day after work, Stiles and Malia are back at Stiles’ apartment. Currently, she was leaned back on his couch, with her tan boots propped up on his coffee table. She absentmindedly flipped through a magazine, while he wandered around his kitchen getting a snack. The sleeves of his blue and white baseball tee were rolled up to his elbows as he buried his hand in a bag of Doritos.

Their day had been… odd, to say the least. When they arrived at the building earlier that morning, they heard nothing about any of the Hales. Cora and Laura were gone, but Derek was still there as if nothing had happened. He didn’t see Peter Hale either, though he supposed that was a good thing. He was relieved that they didn’t have to worry about anymore information being leaked, but he wished he could talk to Scott about it. But no.

Malia had sensed his agitation and told him to relax multiple times, but he couldn’t. Something about it just didn’t sit right with him. He twitched anxiously until he finally reached his breaking point and mentioned it to her.

“Something about this just doesn’t seem right.” He muttered under his breath.

“What do you mean?” She asked, not looking up from what she was doing.

“We haven’t heard anything from Peter or Derek. Don’t you think that if the threat was eliminated someone would let us know?”

She flipped to the next page. “Maybe, but it could be that they are waiting to get a confession out of her.”

“That’s plausible. But also, wouldn’t Peter want to get information from us? About what happened?”

She tossed her magazine to the side and sat up. “Honestly. Stiles, can we not make this a big deal again? We caught Cora. Derek is going after Laura. We’re good now.”

She tried to sooth him with her words, but it wasn’t doing much for him. Now that he had started to pull at the thread of inaccuracies, he couldn’t stop. There were so many things that didn’t make sense. Too many for this situation to be resolved. How could Malia just let it go? He shook his hands anxiously as he continued to ramble on about his ideas. She stood up and walked into the kitchen, putting a hand on his shoulder to try and get him to focus.

Before she could shut him down, an idea sparked, making him freeze. “Wait. Hold on.”

Her eyes widened. “What? What did you figure out?”

“What was Derek doing when you called him?”

She paused, trying to remember. “He had a deal with one of your usuals… a group called the Orphans?”

He grabbed her shoulders. “He said that name specifically? Are you sure?”

“Yeah?”

“And he was in the middle of a deal with them. Like, it was happening while you called him.”

She stepped back, complaining. “Yes, Stiles. I already said that!”

“We always meet them at the same place. An undeveloped neighborhood to the north.” He explained, mostly to himself.

“So?”

He spun around to face her. “It’s at least forty-five minutes away from where we were.”

Her eyebrows scrunched together in confusion. “Then how could he have gotten there so fast?”

“That’s the thing.” He exclaimed. “He couldn’t.”

Before she could respond, he was moving. He hopped over the back of the couch, landing on the floor. He tripped over the table leg in his rush to get to his crime board, but luckily managed to stay on his feet. In a matter of seconds, he was analyzing the information, trying to put things together in his head. A few seconds later, Malia was at his side, trying to understand what he was getting at.

“That means he was supposed to be Cora’s backup. But when you called him, he had to change his plans.” He told her.

She tugged on her sleeves. “Why? Why are they all doing this?”

“Because it all…” He stared at his suspect list. “comes back…” He uncapped his dry erase marker and circled the name. “to Talia Hale.”

“I…” She started to defend, but he cut her off.

“Think about it Malia. Talia is Peter’s older sister, right? She is equally as involved as him?”

“Yeah…” She still seemed hesitant.

He started to ramble as his theory came together. “But Peter is the head of Hale Industries. _He’s_ the one in charge. She’s his second in command. I don’t know about you, but if that were me, I’d be pretty bitter. Hear me out – she connects with Deucalion. They become allies. You know, ‘the enemy of my enemy is my friend?’ So, they agree that if Talia helps Deucalion take down Peter, she can take his place. Right? And of course, if this is Talia’s plan, she gets her kids involved. So, Derek goes to help Cora. Then you call him. He has to improvise. He takes Cora, saying he’s going to Peter, but he doesn’t. He goes and meets up with Talia, Laura, and Deucalion. Cora and Laura go into hiding, while Peter doesn’t know anything was wrong.”

“So, you’re saying…” She still seemed like she was trying to grasp the whole thing.

He threw his hands in the air with triumph. “Talia Hale is the mastermind behind this whole thing!”

She shook her head. “No way. Stiles, you’re taking this too far.”

“Malia. I’m onto something. I know it!”

“Stiles!” She called out, finally getting his attention.

He spun around and finally realized her distress. Her arms were wrapped around herself as she sat on the couch, giving him a look as she frowned. That made him finally realize the weight of what he was doing. Not only had they just found out that Cora and Laura were working with Deucalion, but he was also accusing the rest of her family. While he knew in his gut that he was right, there was likely a better way to go about this. He did his best to calm his racing mind and actually focus on what she was trying to say.

“This is my family we’re talking about here. So, I need you to calm down, and look at me for a second.” He took a few deep breaths and sat next to her, so she continued. “I’m trusting you about this, but I need to know. Are you absolutely sure?”

He grabbed her hands and looked into her eyes. “Malia. I’m sure.”

She sighed. “Then alright. What do we do now?”

“We need more proof. More information. Otherwise, Hale will never believe us.”

“And how do we get this information.” He gave her a look, causing realization to dawn on her face. “Are you stupid? Like I’m actually asking because that has got to be the dumbest idea I’ve ever heard.”

“High risk, high reward.” He shrugged with a devious grin.

“Fantastic. I hope you’re willing to die for a high school economics lesson.” She deadpanned.

“Are you in or out?”

Malia scoffed at him. “In, of course.”

“Great.”

“So which office are we breaking into?”

“Laura’s.” He said with no hesitation.

“Okay. Why hers?”

“Cora, being the youngest, doesn’t have a personal office. She works a few feet away from me and Scott. Derek and Talia are still at Hale Industries, so they’ll be in their offices. Plus, Laura is the least paranoid about people stealing her information.”

The next day, they bid their time. Stiles anxiously tapped his foot all day, thinking about the information he hoped they would uncover. He definitely wanted something concrete about their association with the Alpha Pack, the other people involved, and, hopefully, a meeting place. That was all likely too much to expect, but he could hope. They decided to do it before they left, rather than when they got there, so they would immediately be able to discuss things, and also so they didn’t spend the rest of the day looking extremely suspicious. They were surrounded by people trained to notice that sort of thing.

At exactly six o’clock, Stiles was free to go. That meant it was time for him and Malia to sneak up to Laura’s office. None of these offices had official secretaries in front of them like Peter and Talia’s, so their only danger was his coworkers. Thankfully, the coast was clear. Though, Laura’s office did have a front completely made of glass, so anyone could see them in there. They would have to be extra careful of that. They both entered the office with caution, Stiles keeping an eye out for anything that could incriminate them.

“I’ll keep watch.” He informed her, nudging her towards the desk.

“What? This was your idea!” She complained.

“Yeah, but me snooping through her stuff is significantly more suspicious than you doing it.”

“Fine.” She grumbled. “I hate you for this.”

He sat in one of the leather chairs by the door to Laura’s office. Malia went around her desk and crouched down, presumably to rifle through her filing cabinets. He had to admit – he was jealous of her office. It wasn’t in his style, of course, but it was nice. The big windows let in a lot of light, and there was a wall of bookshelves to his left. Her desk was a sleek white, with a potted plant on it, and a scattering of various papers. He peeked over to read them, but they were all about finances. Nothing relevant to him. He slumped back in his chair and fiddled with the buttons at the top of his grey t-shirt.

“I’ve got it!” She called out.

Unfortunately, she had terrible timing. He heard the clicking of heels and glanced up to see Talia Hale rapidly approaching. Malia seemed unaware of this, as she continued to move around behind the desk. He didn’t have any time to explicitly warn Malia without Talia hearing them, so he had to think fast.

“I am not watching Say Yes to the Dress tonight!” He loudly complained, so that Malia would be forced to get up and Talia would know he wasn’t alone.

“What?” She asked him from somewhere behind the desk.

He turned back around and was immediately met with the sight of Talia Hale standing in the doorway. He put on a big smile and stood up, trying not to be rude. He learned very early on to pay ultimate respects to Talia Hale, almost more so than Peter. He stood up tall and shook her hand in greeting, trying to seem as casual as possible.

“Hale.” He greeted. He heard Malia bump her head on the underside of the desk in surprise.

“Stilinski.” Talia greeted back. “Might I ask what you are doing in Laura’s office.”

Before he could open his mouth to make an excuse, Malia was covering for him.

“Aha! I found it.” Malia popped up with a grin, holding out a small round tube that Stiles didn’t recognize. She then pretended to notice her aunt standing there for the first time. “Oh. Hi Talia.”

“Malia?” Talia asked, seemingly surprised.

Malia wiggled the small object in her hands. “Laura stole my lipstick last week. And look at the shade! It’s perfect for my outfit. So, I needed it back.”

“Alright.”

She pulled out a compact mirror from her pocket and applied the lipstick. It was a deep red with almost a purple tint. He had to admit, it did match her long sleeved crop top almost perfectly.

“How does it look?” She asked, turning to look at Stiles.

He made a face. “Good? I don’t know anything about lipstick.”

Stiles and Malia turned to look at each other, and Stiles tried not to panic. Derek probably told Talia about the other day. That meant that Talia knew that Stiles and Malia knew about Laura and Cora. That being said, Talia didn’t know that Stiles and Malia knew about her and Derek. It was all very confusing. But it was also very suspicious that Stiles and Malia just happened to be in her office the day after all of this was happening. He and Malia definitely didn’t think this through. But if Talia knew anything, she didn’t show it. Not that she would. Her poker face is legendary.

Malia stood up and brushed the dirt from her black jeans. “Anyway, now that I’ve got that, we can go, Stiles. I know you were desperate to get back to your apartment.”

“I forgot to feed my fish, Malia.”

They left the office, trying to seem as innocent as possible. He could see Malia’s hands shaking at her sides, and he had to resist the urge to grab them and calm her down. There would be enough time for that later. For now, he needed to get them out of Talia’s eyesight and find out what she saw.

“Did you get it?” He whispered to her.

“I’ve got pictures. There was so much stuff, but I figured they would notice if any of it was missing.”

He grinned, bumping his shoulder against hers. “Smart.”

“Are you going to tell Scott?” She asked, making him pause.

He had thought about this particular question. Many times, in fact. Scott was his best friend, but most importantly, his partner in all of this. Stiles very rarely did a job without the help or advice of Scott McCall. But this was a different kind of dangerous. Usually, they have practically unlimited resources and the whole organization at their back. But not for this. For this they were completely vulnerable and on their own. And even if Scott didn’t decide to help him, he would be put at risk for even knowing. But he would help. Of course he would. Scott always took Stiles’ side, no matter what. Stiles refused to put him in that position. The others, too.

“No.” He finally told her. “Because if this goes poorly, I don’t want to drag him down with me. I don’t even want you doing this with me. But I mean, me and Scott, we’re different. We are completely expendable. Scott’s got a mom to look out for. I don’t want him caught in the crossfire. He can’t know about any of this.”

“I can’t tell if you’re a selfless and loyal friend or a complete martyr.”

“Me neither.” He turned to face her, hopefully. “Do I have any chance of convincing you to stay back?”

“Absolutely not.” She responded instantly.

“Malia, we’ve all been training for this forever. Not a single person in this whole organization has clean hands. You honestly think you can go up against them?”

She shot him a look. “You honestly think you can do this on your own?”

“But-” He tried, but she cut him off.

“Stiles. Like it or not, we’re in this together.”

“I want you to-”

“Be safe.” She finished for him. “I got it. That’s what Peter told me too, before he shipped me across the country three days after my fourteenth birthday. I’m sick of it. I’m coming with you whether you like it or not.”

He hated that. He hated it more than anything else. He was almost positive he was going to die. Like, with 90% certainty. And honestly, he had mentally prepared for this since he first joined. But Malia? He can’t let her die. He would do anything to keep her out of this mess. He was half tempted to dump her with Scott. But honestly? He refused to take responsibility for this. That was on Talia and Peter and their secrets and games. They got Malia roped into this all in the first place, by exposing who she was and bringing her here. Plus, she was stubborn as hell. He doubted he could go anywhere or do anything without her hot on his tail.

“Fine. But if I tell you to run, you run.”

“Nope. But I’ll agree if that will make you feel better.” He gave him a smile dripping with sarcasm.

He rolled his eyes. “You’re insufferable.”

“You love me.”

She gave him a flirty wink before climbing into the car. He stood there for a second, slightly awestruck, before he managed to get into the drivers seat. He knew she said it to mess with him, but damn if it didn’t make him forget how to breathe.

They rushed back to his apartment. While he wanted to view the evidence as soon as possible, it would be incredibly stupid of them to look at it while they were still at Hale Industries. And they definitely couldn’t take it to the Hale penthouse. They didn’t want to risk being seen by any of the Hales, even Peter. Though, now that he thought about it, he realized he had only been inside the Hale penthouse about three times since Malia flew in. The rest of the time, they were at his place.

“Does anyone even care you spend most of your time at my apartment?” He asked her as he pulls into the small parking garage.

“Honestly, I doubt they even notice.” She joked.

He gave her a confused look. “Doesn’t Derek walk you back up to the penthouse after I drop you off.”

“Yeah, but… he’s not much for small talk.”

“And no one else has asked you?” He clarifies.

“Stiles. You’re smart. Why do you think I’m with you instead of one of them? Just drop it.” She pushed past him into the apartment.

That made him pause. He wished he could say he was surprised. But the more he thought about it, the worse he felt for her, which was probably why she didn’t want to talk about it. He hadn’t even thought about that before, though. The fact that she wasn’t being protected by any of the other Hales. Stiles wished he could say that was because he was better that them. Unfortunately, that wasn’t even remotely true. They just wanted her out of the way.

He followed her inside, where she made a beeline to his room. By the time he got in there too, she was digging around for his laptop. While she did that, he got the cord needed to connect it to her phone. Luckily, she had an iPhone too, though hers was the newest model and his was about five years. Either way, they quickly were able to pull up larger versions of her pictures. Malia laid on her stomach on his bed, the computer in front of her. He laid down next to her, peering over her shoulder. After a few minutes of quickly flipping through the pictures, it was obvious that there was so much incriminating evidence here. They ultimately decided to go back to the beginning and carefully look at each paper for specifics.

“We were right. Look.” He pointed to a paragraph on the screen. “It’s Talia, Laura, Cora, and Derek. They’re all working with Deucalion.”

“Do we have any idea where they could be?”

“Let’s see…” He clicked through the next few pictures, scanning for anything that could be useful. “There!”

“What?” She looked at where he was pointing.

“A large shipment sent to…” He leaned forward to make sure he was reading this right. “No fucking way.”

“What?”

He managed to finally tell her, “Your old address. You know, of the house that burned down?”

“What?” Her jaw dropped as she noticed he was right.

“Yeah.” He breathed out.

It was his first year working with Hale Industries. Malia must have been thirteen or fourteen at the time, Stiles sixteen. The Hales used to have this big mansion in the outskirts of San Francisco. There were at least twenty members of the family living there – Peter, Talia, their siblings, their children, their spouses, and their parents. At this point, Hale Industries wasn’t run by Peter, but by his father. One night, Talia, Peter, and their kids were out doing who knows what (Stiles wasn’t privy to that kind of information). The house was set on fire, killing everyone inside. Malia, Cora, Laura, Derek, Talia, and Peter were the only survivors. They still owned the property, but the only thing on it was the burnt husk of what used to show the undeniable power of the Hale family. They never did find out who set it.

“Why would they go there?”

“I guess because they know it’s the one place Peter would never want to go. I can’t believe any of the other Hales would set foot inside, though.” He told her, still trying to wrap his head around it.

“I can’t either.” She agrees. “What do we do?”

“We should talk to Peter.” Stiles told her, already pulling out his phone.

“What?” Malia looked at him, surprised.

“He’ll know what to do.” As he started to click on the contact information for his assistant, he faltered. He slid his phone back into his pocket. “He’ll send everyone in.”

“Is backup not a good thing?” She asked, confused.

“Not with this. He’ll want the Alpha Pack dead or accounted for as quickly as possible, while he secures his own possessions. This means everyone we know will become involved. If Talia and Deucalion have as much support as I suspect they do, we’ll be massacred.”

“Oh.”

“But then that’s the issue isn’t it?” He flipped on his side to look at her. “We send in lots of people, they’ll be killed. We go in on our own, we are hopelessly outmatched. There’s no winning here. As much as I hate to say it…”

“Absolutely not.” Malia shook her head. “I cannot believe I’m the one that has to talk you into doing this, but we can’t let them get away with this. You said it yourself – you want to actually help people. If Talia and Deucalion take over, who’s to say they won’t immediately dispose of everyone anyway? Or do even worse things than Peter? If we have the knowledge and power…”

“Then we have to do something. God, you’re right.”

“Then think of what to do.”

His eyes lit up as he thought of something. “I’ll call Lydia and Allison. They already know about this stuff anyway, plus they’re halfway across the country. If something happens, they’ll know what to do. Best of both worlds.”

“You’re a genius.” She told him, smiling.

He called Lydia, unsurprisingly getting her voicemail.

_Hey, Lydia. It’s Stiles. Stilinski. I know you told me to stay out of this, but well… anyway. I’m encrypting and emailing you some files. Top secret. Like not even Scott knows. Well, you can tell Allison. But definitely not anyone else. You’ll understand when you open them. But I can’t just stand by and wait for you to get back. I have to do something so no one else gets hurt. Just, if something happens… I have letters or whatever for you all in my left bedside table. God, this is getting morbid. Just, in summary, I’m about to fuck up. Check your email as soon as possible. I love you!_

He slid his phone into his pocket with shaking hands, before turning back to Malia. “Now we need ideas.”

“I say we rush in, catch them by surprise.” She told him, her eyes narrowing in anger.

He shook his head. “But we don’t’ know how many of them are in there. We don’t know what they’re armed with, or if Talia and Deucalion will even be there.”

“Yes we do.”

She reached out and pointed to something on the screen. In small print, there were details about a meeting. It was supposed to be for Laura, Derek, Talia, and Cora, so they could discuss their plans away from Peter’s prying ears. While it was unclear whether this would still be happening after the other day, it was a solid lead. Something that could really help them.

“Tonight, 9 pm.” She read out loud.

“We have two hours to come up with a plan?” He looked at her incredulously.

“Two hours.” She confirmed.

“Holy shit, we are doing this.” He let out a light laugh at the absurdity of the situation.

She shoved him towards the door. “Better go get your crime board.”


	8. Chapter 8

The time had come. He and Malia were ready to leave for the remnants of the Hale house. They had devised their plan and went through it multiple times, trying to account for every possible outcome. What they should do if there are more people than expected, if they can’t sneak in, if they are caught, and more. Malia had assured him multiple times that she felt comfortable confronting her family members, and he trusted her judgement. Stiles would think their plan was flawless if he didn’t know the Hales. You can only expect so much of the unexpected with them.

Though, to be fair, Talia Hale being responsible for this wasn’t exactly unexpected to him.

“Are you ready?” Stiles asked, looking over at her.

“Yup. Armed and dangerous.” She gave him a wicked grin, sliding the pistol into the waistband of her leggings.

“Okay.” He slid on his Nike’s before heading to the door. “Let’s go.”

They headed out and climbed into his Jeep. It felt wrong doing something this big without his Jeep. While it was recognizable, they were planning to park far away, so there would be no reason for anyone to even see it anyways. Plus, he wasn’t sure if he would end up needing to do some off road driving, and he definitely didn’t want to try that out in Peter’s Audi.

They drove there in silence and, for once, it didn’t bother Stiles. It also helped that it was more of a comfortable silence, only charged by their anxiety. Stiles needed the silence to think over his plans for all of this and to have some time to mentally prepare. He ran through their plans over again in his head, practiced his ‘hey! We caught you!’ speech, and tried not to think about where he currently kept his will.

After about thirty minutes, they were nearing the location. He pulled into the parking lot of a small motel about a mile away from their destination. It would blend in among the other cars, keep him from getting a parking ticket, and it was close enough to the Hale house to be convenient. They got extremely lucky in this aspect. Stiles pulled his key out of the ignition and unbuckled his seatbelt. Though, before they could start their walk through the woods, he hesitated.

He turned to face Malia, his arm resting on the steering wheel. “Okay, last chance to back out. Are you sure you want to do this?”

She raised her eyebrows at him. “Are you?”

“Absolutely.”

“Then let’s go.” She told him, already tugging at the door handle.

They walked through the woods, trying to make as little noise as possible, despite the fact that there was no one around. Luckily, they had prepared for this, so they were wearing comfortable clothes. Malia was in leggings, with white tennis shoes, and a black hoodie. Stiles had on his pair of Nike’s, black sweatpants, and grey zip up. Underneath this, they both wore bullet proof vests. Just in case. The only issue was that they both were armed with multiple weapons which was uncomfortable.

Eventually, they made it to the house. They hid out behind a rather large bush so they could survey their surroundings. Stiles had never seen the Hale house before, and it was actually worse than he expected. The roof was partially collapsed, the walls were still thick with ash, even years later, and all of the windows were broken. Malia inhaled sharply to his right, so he laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. He couldn’t imagine how hard it would be to be back here, especially because he was sure that the last time she was on the property was the night of the fire. She put her hand over his hand and gave him a curt nod, which he assumed meant that she would be fine. He removed his hand and they carefully moved from their hiding spot.

They snuck around the house looking for their entrance. Malia assured him that her old room had a window located on the second floor. Near it was a long tree branch that she used to sneak in and out of the house when she was in junior high. That would be their way in, because they doubted anyone would be patrolling in Malia’s old room. She climbed her way up the tree with an ease that came with years of practice. He was impressed by how she seemed to know the footholds through muscle memory, even years later. He followed close behind, though he struggled a little more.

The window was smashed open, so they didn’t have to worry about forcing it open. He didn’t trust the long branch to hold both their weight, no matter how sturdy it looked, so Malia went first. She scooted along the branch before diving headfirst through the window to avoid the jagged edges. She rolled across the floor and into a standing position. She immediately stepped against the wall so she wouldn’t be visible to the rest of the house. Stiles followed behind, slightly less gracefully, but it worked. Only a minute later, he was inside the room as well. He pressed his back against the wall and held her tightly to him to keep them out of view as he peered around the edge. There was one person pacing the hallway. Considering it wasn’t a Hale, he assumed it was a random goon. He kept an eye out for a few more seconds to make sure they guy didn’t have a friend, before he assessed that, at least in this wing, there was only one person to take out.

The man was loitering at the end of the hallway, so Stiles took this time to survey the room. It definitely didn’t look like a bedroom, which he figured was a good thing. The bed frame was still slightly intact, but the wallpaper had been thoroughly destroyed and there wasn’t any sign of posters, pictures, decorations, or anything else. He glanced quickly down at Malia and noticed that her eyes had glazed over, and she was intentionally staring out the window. He gave her shoulder a light squeeze with the arm he had wrapped around her and she leaned her head back against him. He knew he said that he trusted her when she said she could handle this but now, he had to admit, he was a little worried.

He turned back around to see the guy was currently heading down the hallway towards the door. He let go of Malia and poised himself to jump out when the moment came. When the guy passed by the door, Stiles seized his opportunity. He grabbed the guy over the mouth so he couldn’t call out for help and pulled him back into the room. The man struggled against his grip, and Stiles quickly realized he was much stronger than Stiles was. Because of this, he quickly pulled out his gun and hit the guy in the head with it, effectively knocking him out. Stiles dragged him into a corner of the room away from any doors and windows and chained him to the bed frame with a pair of handcuffs. Stiles put a generous amount of duct tape over his mouth, just in case.

Malia patiently waited for him to finish, before surging out into the hallway, causing Stiles to jog to catch up to her. He wanted to talk to her and get a gauge about how she was feeling, but because they needed to be silent, he didn’t get the opportunity.

They turned the corner and came face to face with another one of Talia’s guards. Before he could even blink, Malia roundhouse kicked the guy in the face knocking him to the floor. She got over him and gave him a punch to the nose, and Stiles could swear he heard the bone cracking. The man started to cry out in pain, but Malia pressed down on his chest in such a way, that he was out cold in under a minute. She stood up, wiped the blood off her hands and onto her pants.

“You’re incredible.” He whispered, still in awe at what had happened.

“I picked up some stuff from Scott the other day.” She shrugged. “You were busy, and I got bored.”

“Well, I’m glad you did.”

They peered around this corner and realized they were fairly close to their assumed destination. In front of them was a large staircase, descending into an entry hall. To the left was a kitchen, and to the right, a living room. Stiles and Malia had previously deducted that they would likely meet up in the living room. There was no reason for the Hales to hide within the house if no one would even be looking for them there. Besides, if Stiles hadn’t known what he knew, Talia, Derek, Cora, and Laura meeting up here wouldn’t be the slightest bit suspicious. In fact, he would probably steer clear of the topic.

They descended the staircase cautiously. The room was big and open, so anybody who currently walked in would have full view of them. They moved quickly and quietly. When they finally reached the living room, they paused. Malia looked at him and nodded, assuring him she was ready. He returned the gesture. He counted down 3…2…1… and they entered the room with their guns drawn.

They froze.

The room was empty, except for Talia Hale, who was sitting on a couch with perfect posture. She looked up at them casually, as if their presence here was completely normal and expected. She was wearing a pantsuit with heels and her hair was loose around her shoulders, as if she were preparing for a business meeting and not a fight. Stiles’ shoulders dropped and Malia furrowed her eyebrows together in confusion.

“Hello. I was wondering how long it would take you two to find me here.” Talia told them calmly.

“I… what?” Stiles struggled to find the right words to convey his confusion.

She gave him a condescending look. “What did you think would happen? The two of you would sneak in here past armed guards and take us all down from the inside?”

“Well…yeah.” Malia admitted.

“You’re armed with a couple guns, one competent fighter, and the power of love. Don’t make me laugh, Malia.”

“Hold on.” Stiles spun around, noticing the lack of people in the room. “Where is everyone?”

“Gone.” She gave a vague wave towards the door.

He took a step forward. “Gone where? Is this a joke to you, Talia?”

“Of course not. Everything is finally coming together.”

“Coming together?” Malia asked, tilting her head to the side in confusion.

“Yes. This has all gone according to plan.”

A lightbulb went off in Stiles’ head causing him to point out, “You were sloppy enough that Martin intercepted your message about Malia.”

“Was I? Or was that the plan the whole time?” She stood up and approached them. “You see, she’s here and she has all of your focus. Martin and Argent are across the country chasing some false lead that I planted. Meanwhile, the Alpha Pack has the perfect opportunity to render Peter inconsequential.”

“Why are you doing this?” Malia asked, clearly struggling to come to terms with this.

She only rolled her eyes. “You think I want to be second to Peter? I could make this organization so much better. The fool didn’t realize I’ve been manipulating him for years.”

“So, what now? Are you just going to kill us?” Stiles leveled his jaw, looking directly in her eyes.

“If you’d like me to. But I had a different plan.”

“And what is that?” He countered.

“I’d like you both to work for me.”

His jaw visibly dropped. “What?”

“Come on, Stilinski. Don’t be modest. I give credit where credit is due. Not only have you showed commitment and loyalty more than anyone else, you and McCall really demonstrated real skill after your undercover assignment with the Chimeras last year.”

“You mean the one that landed Scott in the hospital?” Stiles spat out, bitterly.

“That’s the one.” She confirmed. “That wouldn’t happen with me. I actually value my employees.”

He was considering it. He couldn’t believe he was saying that, and he hated himself for it, but he had to admit the offer was enticing. Talia actually gave him credit for his work, which is something Peter had never done. Plus, he knew that, if Talia actually kept her word, he would finally get involved in the undercover and detective work like he had always wanted. Not only that, but she mentioned Scott. That hopefully meant she was planning on recruiting him too. He knew he couldn’t go without his partner. And if Peter was really in as much trouble as Talia made it seem… he itched to accept the offer. Luckily, Talia wasn’t looking for an immediate answer. Instead, she continued on.

“And you Malia.” She spun to face the girl next to him.

“What about me?” She crossed her arms.

“Peter doesn’t care about you. He thinks you’re weak. Me? I’ve always seen your potential. You’d be made an official part of Hale Industries, like you deserve.”

He could tell Malia was thinking about it too, based on the hopeful look on his face. He didn’t know much about Malia’s past other than the bits and pieces he had picked up, but he knew how important this would be to her. An opportunity to work with her family, to finally be included, appreciated, and involved. If he were Malia, this would be his dream.

“Besides, you two are the only ones who figured out my plan. So much talent there, and yet you two were the ones with the intelligence and the drive to actually get to this point. Both of you would be real assets. So, I’m here to make you that offer.” She opened her arms widely in invitation.

He opened his mouth to hesitantly agree when he froze. He was so alarmed he actually took a step back. Was he really about to agree to work with Talia Hale? Who had betrayed her brother, attempted to have Malia killed, and risked the lives of his friends? Absolutely not. Plus, Stiles wasn’t an idiot. She knew they were a threat to her, as much as she liked to pretend she was on top. She wanted people to question their loyalty to Peter with false promises, so it would be that much easier for her to fill his role. He almost forgot – Talia worked closely with Peter before. If she didn’t do any of this before, then why now? He couldn’t believe he was almost manipulated by a few kind words. He shook his head violently.

“No.” Stiles decided.

Talia’s grin fell slightly, as if she didn’t expect that from him. “I’m sorry?”

“No.” He repeated coldly. “You’ve been undermining Peter for years, yet we are supposed to trust that you would do the same for us? I doubt it. Plus, this is all just words. Not once have you ever even hinted that either of us mattered to you. We are all just pawns in your game against Peter. And you’re just a pawn for Deucalion. We’re leaving.” He spun to Malia for confirmation. “Malia?”

“Stiles…” She mumbled, not moving.

Stiles felt his heart stop beating. “No, Malia. You can’t.”

“Yes, she can.” Talia told him before going up to Malia, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and talking to her directly. “Don’t you want to be apart of all of this? To be able to fight alongside your real family.”

“Stop the fucking manipulation, Talia.” Stiles interuppted before turning to Malia. “Remember what you told me, Malia? About how they treat you?”

“But Peter…” She sighed.

“Peter is just as bad as the rest of them. I’m not defending anything. So leave the family shit out of it. Do you trust Talia to keep any of her promises?”

He saw the minute Malia’s jaw clenched in anger. She ripped herself from Talia’s grip and went to stand by Stiles. “You promised you wouldn’t let Peter send me away. You told me that. Yet when there was the big argument about whether New York would be the best place for me, you stayed silent. You let me be sent away from my only family only a few months after everyone was killed in this very house! And I heard from you about once a year after that. At least Peter doesn’t pretend to care.”

“Don’t be a petulant child, Malia.” Talia scolded, but it clearly had no effect.

“Oh fuck off.” She grabbed Stiles’ hand and tugged him towards the front door. “Let’s go, Stiles.”

“Go ahead. Run back to go find Peter.” Talia told them.

Stiles was skeptical. “Just like that?”

She shrugged. “Of course. The Alphas are at Hale Industries as we speak. It’s all in complete chaos. This conversation was a formality.”

“What?”

“By the time you get there, Peter Hale will most likely be dead, as well as any of your friends who fight by his side. I am encouraging you to go and see for yourself.”

“You-” He growled, taking a step towards her, but Malia pulled him back.

“Stiles! We need to go!”

“This isn’t over.” He told the woman with as fierce of a glare as he could muster.

“Oh, Stiles. Of course it is.” She had the audacity to laugh.

Stiles’ mind was moving a million miles an hour. He had the opportunity to stay here and kill Talia, which he was sure she deserved. But he thought about Hale Industries. Where Kira, Isaac, Erica, and Boyd were. Where _Scott_ was. He didn’t have the time to sit here and get into a fight he wasn’t even sure he could win. Without waiting to see if Malia was behind him, he took off towards the car, desperate to get to Hale Industries as quickly as possible. He didn’t know what he would do when he got there. He didn’t have a plan. The only backup he had was Malia. But he couldn’t abandon them now.


	9. Chapter 9

As they drove, Stiles couldn’t help but be filled with intense anxiety. He had no idea what they would find there. Would everyone be dead? Was Talia lying to them to get them to come here? As much as he wished that were true, something in his gut told him she wasn’t. He only hoped he could get there in time. If not to help Peter, at least to save his friends. That was the most important thing anyway. He pressed the gas a little harder, going as fast as he dared to.

He wanted to get there as soon as possible, but the last thing he needed was to be pulled over right now. He pulled up about a block away from the building. He didn’t want to alert anyone that he and Malia were there, but he also couldn’t afford to park too far away, so this was the compromise.

“Malia, stay in the car.” He told her, already pulling at the door handle.

“Absolutely not.” She shook her head, reaching for her seatbelt.

“I’m not arguing with you.”

She shot him a look. “Good, you won’t win.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“I don’t want you getting hurt either!” She argued back.

“There are professional killers in there. They aren’t Hales. They would have no problem killing you on sight.”

“And you won’t be killed?” She countered.

He shook his head. “I don’t care if I die. Not, if it saves Scott. And not if it saves you.” He finished softly.

“Stiles.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “When are you going to get it through your thick skull that we’re in this together. If you go, I go. You’re not leaving me again.”

He couldn’t help it. He reached over and pulled her into a tight hug. She didn’t hesitate to reciprocate it, burying her head into his shoulder. Her hair smelled strongly like mint, even after their trip through the woods, and it filled all his senses. After a few seconds, he pulled away sheepishly, not meeting her eyes.

“What was that for?” She asked, giving him a look.

“Just in case.” He gave her a grin. “You still have your gun?”

They snuck around the building and up to the front door. Luckily, Hale Industries was in the middle of the city, so they couldn’t post guards outside without seeming suspicious. Their main trouble would be actually getting in. Stiles knew this place like the back of his hand – the only entrance that was easily accessible to them right now was the front door. Their side and back entrances led to places deeper in the building which, while it helped them under normal circumstances, would not put them in the right place to sneak around undetected. So, Stiles and Malia found themselved peering into the building through the glass front doors.

Inside, Stiles could see three people. One on either side of the front desk, blocking the elevators, and one in front watching the door. He and Malia quickly ducked back so they wouldn’t be seen. Stiles carefully looked back to see if they would have an opening to sneak in or if they would have to find another way. After a few seconds, they all started talking to each other and creeping towards the left. Stiles assumed they had heard something somewhere else. This left the front completely unguarded, so they took their opportunity.

They moved as quickly and quietly as possible, going through the doors and ducking behind a couch in the lobby. Just in time, too, as only seconds later one of the guards returned to his post. They crept as quietly as they could behind each piece of furniture, trying to stay as out of sight as possible. It took them lots of time that they didn’t have, but eventually they made it near the hallway to the elevators. Stiles and Malia nodded to each other, signaling that they were both ready to make a run for it. They took a step out, then another, trying to make their way to the doors as soon as possible.

Before they could get too far, a hand reached out and grabbed his arm, yanking him backwards. Malia seemed to have the same problem. They both tumbled back into a supply closet, the door closing quickly behind them. The room was pitch black, so he couldn’t see who had grabbed him. He quickly fumbled around until he found Malia’s hand, taking it. The other person wasn’t speaking so he had no clue who they were or what they wanted. For all he knew, he was about to get killed. He started to slightly panic, wondering what was about to happen, when the person finally spoke.

“Stiles!” A familiar voice whispered.

“Scott!” He relaxed, reaching forward to pull him into a tight hug. “Dude, I’m so glad you’re okay.”

Scott dismissed his concern.“Yeah, I’m fine. What’s going on?”

“The Alpha Pack is here. Talia and the other Hales were working with Deucalion the whole time.”

“Seriously?” He could hear the surprise in the other guy’s voice.

“Yeah.” Stiles continued, “What’s been going on here?”

“I don’t know. I got a call from Kira saying something was happening here and that I needed to get here as soon as possible. I heard gunshots, so I ducked in here and, well, you know the rest.”

“So you don’t know how everyone else is doing?”

“No, no one is answering their phones. I’m getting worried.”

Another gunshot rang out.

“We have to get to Peter. He needs to know what we know.” Malia told Scott.

“You don’t think it’s too late?”

Stiles shook his head, even though neither of them could see him. He told them definitively “It can’t be.”

It went silent as Scott seemed to ponder this. After a few seconds, he finally spoke up.

“I’ll cover for you.” Scott finally agreed. “Are we going with Plan 6?”

“No way, too risky.” He thought for a moment, before suggesting “9?”

“Are you stupid?” He could practically see Scott’s incedulous look. He countered with “13.”

“That could work.” Stiles finally agreed.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Malia interrupted, confused.

“Hold on.” They both told her.

“Are you sure about this?” Stiles asked.

Scott didn’t even wait for him to finish the question before responding, “Absolutely.”

Stiles hesitated, before admitting. “I just… feel like you should know something first.”

“What?”

“Talia wanted us. For her new little organization. She thought we would be a real asset, after what happened with the Chimeras.”

Scott gasped. “What? Did you tell her yes?”

“Of course not!” Stiles defended. “But… I wanted to give you all the information. In case you wanted to go.”

“Absolutely not. You all are my family. I’m not giving up.”

Stiles smiled fondly. “You’re too good, Scotty.”

“Are you two done flirting? We are kind of under a serious time constraint.” He could practically see Malia roll her eyes.

“Right.”

“First thing’s first – we head to the stairwell.” Stiles told them.

Stiles poked his head out first. He there was about ten feet between them and the opening for the stairwell, which was good. Unfortunately, there was a guard about ten feet in the other direction, as well. Stiles wasn’t sure they could make it without getting caught. Though, they didn’t have much of a choice. He stepped out, followed by Malia, and Scott took up the rear. This way, she was the most protected. They crept towards the door, and by some chance, made it. Right as they opened the door, the guard spun around, but by the time he could aim his gun, they were gone.

“Now?” Malia asked.

“We go up.”

They steadily climbed the stairs. Stiles wasn’t by any means out of shape, but that did not mean he was prepared to go up so many flights. At least the other two didn’t seem to be faring much better. Peter’s office was on the fiftieth floor. That also meant that, by the time they would face trouble, they would be exhausted. Also not good. They pressed on, though, until they made it to about the thirty-fifth floor. They were breathing heavily and so much time had passed, that Stiles wasn’t even sure it was worth it.

Of course they second they stopped they came face to face with trouble. Or, more accurately, the set of twins from the Alpha Pack that seemed to be a perpeutal thorn in his side.

“Not them again.” Stiles groaned. At the same time, Malia said, “seriously?”

“Oh, look who it is.” One of the twins chuckled.

“Wish we could say we were glad to see you two.” Stiles muttered.

“Yeah, well, the feeling is mutual.”

“Are you actually going to put up a fight this time?” The other twin taunted them.

Stiles took a step forward, “Listen-”

Before Stiles could finish his threat, the twin nearest to him took a swing at him. He instictively ducked, barely escaping a sharp right hook. He kicked his leg out, hoping to knock his opponent over, but he jumped over it. This caused Stiles to go off balance, so the twin took that opportunity to pin him against the wall with a forearm against the upper chest. Stiles struggled to breathe. He wanted to use his gun or do something, but that would be way too loud and draw more attention to them. He could see Scott and Malia fighting the second twin, and they seemingly had much better luck. When Stiles’ vision started to blur, he saw Scott give a big shove to the other guy, knocking him over the railing and down to the ground floor.

“Aidan!” Ethan called out, immediately abandoning the fight to check on his brother.

Stiles fell to the floor, gasping for air. Scott and Malia rushed to his side, but he brushed them off. He didn’t go too long without oxygen, so he only needed a minute or so to catch his breath before he was able to stand. Scott pulled him to his feet and they all took an opportunity to check themselves for injury. Unfortunately, they heard footsteps approaching them from above – Ethan must’ve told someone they were here. From the sound of it, there seemed to be at least three of them, possibly five. Definitely too many for them to take on. Nowhere to go, they stepped towards the door to the floor. They would be trapped, but they didn’t exactly have any other options.

“Go, go, go.” Stiles pushed them inside.

He knew where he was, it was only a floor above their own. It was open, with multiple desks spread out, along with a few meeting rooms.

“Okay, let’s keep moving.” Scott told them, as they all headed to the right.

“Not so fast.” A voice called out.

A woman with olive skin and black hair stepped out from around the corner, her gun levelled directly at Stiles.

“Oh, shit.” Stiles swore.

Scott and Malia curled their fists in to try and fight, taking a step towards her, but the woman took a step closer, perfecting her aim.

“Can you move faster than a gun?” They stayed silent. “That’s a shame.”

She guided him down to where he was on his knees. He put his hands behind his head and she grinned. She took her time, seeming to enjoy this. Scott and Malia practically growled behind him, but there was obviously nothing they could do. If they made one wrong move, he would be instantly killed. And wouldn’t that be a real bummer. He normally would try to escape, but he didn’t want to risk her turning the gun on Scott or Malia.

She finally settled and seemed ready to shoot him. He closed his eyes in resignation preparing for his inevitable death. Only, seconds later, he heard a thud. He cautiously opened his eyes to see the woman on the ground, an arrow lodged in the center of her chest, her eyes still open. Dead.

He only knew one person who used a bow and arrow as a weapon. He quickly stumbled to his feet and spun around, a grin on his face. “Lydia! Allison!”

“We got your message.” Lydia told them.

“I’ve never been so happy to see you.”

“Yeah, yeah. What’s the plan?” Allison muttered, but she obviously was pleased to see them too.

“Stiles and Malia need to get to Peter.” Scott summed up.

“Fine. We can help. Believe it or not, I actually have some information too.” Lydia informed them.

Stiles rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. You’re a genius.”

“So how do we get there?” Malia interrupted.

Allison answered, “Elevators are not operational, unsurprisingly. They’re beefing up security in the stairwells.”

“So how do we get up there? Peter is still two floors above us.”

“Please don’t say the air vents.” Stiles groaned.

Lydia rolled her eyes. “You’ve seen too many movies. That wouldn’t work.”

“Here, I have a map of the building plans. Stole it from my dad’s office.” Allison pulled a blueprint from her backpack and unrolled it onto the nearest desk. “There’s a laundry chute running from near Peter’s office all the way down to the basement. I guess they use it to dispose of bloody clothing, weapons that need to be sanitized, stuff like that. If we can find a way to get up, we’ll only be feet away from his office.”

“Easier said than done.” Scott joked.

“Not with the right equipment.”

It took a few minutes of searching, but they finally found the chute on this floor. It was hidden in the back, unsurprisingly. It was a small metal square with a door attached to it. It did seem big enough for them to crawl through, which was lucky. Stiles didn’t have any idea how they would get up there, but Allison already have seemed to have thought that through. She wrapped some rope around her metal arrow before leaning through the door. She shot upwards, the arrow looping around the pulley at the top, usually used for the box that carried the laundry, before it fell back into her waiting hand. She tied the end of the rope to a nearby desk, giving them a solid way to climb up. Stiles had to admit, he was impressed.

“Stiles-” Lydia started, but he knew where she was going.

“I’ll go first.” He finished.

Malia spoke up, “I can go after.”

“Scott?” Allison asked.

He glanced towards the door where voices could still be heard. “I’ll try and lead as many of them away from here as possible.”

“Be careful.” Stiles told him.

“You, too.”

Scott turned away and headed towards the door. Stiles already regretted letting him leave. While he knew they had no chance if the others decided to gang up on them, he really hated the idea of Scott being in charge of leading them all away. If something were to happen to him… Stiles didn’t know what he would do. He tried not to think about it. Right now, the others needed his help. And Scott was more than capable of taking care of himself.

Stiles carefully climbed through the small door before tugging at the rope. It seemed secure enough, so he grabbed on. Sure enough, it held. He pulled himself up inch by inch, as he neared the top. He tried not to look down, knowing that there is no way he would survive a fall from this height. But he would be fine. He just needed to keep going up.

When he got to the top, he was able to pry open the door and roll through it, landing on the top floor. He found himself near Peter’s assistants desk, face to face with someone guarding the door. He didn’t waste any time. He sprang into action, engaging in a fight with the man. A few moments later, a second person joined him. He tried to keep their fight as quiet as possible, as to not alert more members of the Alpha Pack, but that was a useless effort. Fortunately, he was able to knock them both out before anyone could come to their aid.

As soon as he wiped the blood off his hands, Malia appeared at his side. She had some small rope burns on her hands, causing him to wonder if there was an issue, but she seemed fine besides that. After a few minutes, Allison climbed through the door, followed shortly by Lydia.

Lydia informed him, as her and Allison headed towards the door. “We’ll stand guard by the stairs and try to keep them from getting too close.”

“Good idea. And good luck.”

Allison and Lydia leave to stand guard by the stairwell door. He was nervous for them, as he knew what the Alpha Pack was capable of, but he also knew not to underestimate Lydia and Allison. They were more than able to take care of themselves, especially because of how angry they were right now. He felt comfortable with those two watching his back.

Finally able to face Peter, Malia and Stiles rushed towards the big oak doors. They got ready to go inside his office when they saw they door was cracked open. Stiles shouldn’t have been surprised. Either Peter would’ve barricaded himself in or already been gotten to by Talia or Deucalion. It obviously was the latter. Trying to make as little noise as possible, he leaned over to see what was happening inside. He could hear three voices, one of them was clearly Peter’s, but he couldn’t distinguish the other two yet.

Once he caught a glimpse of what was happening, it all became obvious. Peter was standing up, a gun pointed directly at Talia, while Deucalion stood to the side watching. Talia’s own gun was still in its holster, so Peter obviously caught her by surprise. Peter currently wasn’t targeting Deucalion in any way, which confused Stiles, but he figured Peter had a pretty good reason. Unsure how they would even interfere, he decided that he and Malia should stay hidden where they were and wait to see what would happen.

“Talia. Lovely to see you.” Peter said with a sarcastic smile.

“Peter.” She spat, bitterly.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to plan this little coup.”

“You knew.” She accused flatly.

He scoffed. “Of course I did, do you think I’m an idiot?”

“Why didn’t you stop it?”

“I was biding my time.”

“Shocking.” She took a step closer to him. “You think you can kill me and get away with it?”

“Absolutely.” He removed the safety from his gun, the _click_ echoing around the room.

“You wouldn’t kill your own family.”

He gave her a look. “You know that’s not true. You’re grasping at straws. Plus, you tried to kill one of our own, as well.”

She cocked her head to the side. “Really? You’re bringing up Malia? You’re the one who brought her here.”

“New York wasn’t safe for her. Not since you exposed her whereabouts. Besides, she’s still alive, isn’t she?” He asked.

“Unfortunately.”

He heard a small gasp from next to him from Malia. He couldn’t help but wince with sympathy. It was one thing to completely betray her family and her trust, but for Talia to actively say that she wished Malia was dead? Especially after Talia’s whole pitch from earlier that day where she said how much she valued Malia? Stiles was filled with even more hatred for Talia than he even thought possible.

“Couldn’t use her as a bargaining chip?” Peter taunted.

She fired back, “It wasn’t because of her loyalty to you.”

“Of course not.” He tacked on at the end, “Not that you know what that looks like, Talia.”

“What are you playing at, Peter?” She asked him, taking another step forward.

“You expected to barge in here with an army, get me to surrender the business to you, and then kill me. But I’ve known for a long time you’d be here. Not only do you severely underestimate my group, who I know are easily taking down your little Alpha Pack, but you honestly expect me to give you something I built?”

She interrupted him, yelling, “I built it!”

“You did nothing but undermine my every move and threaten our security!” He shouted right back.

“Come on everyone, let’s just calm down.” Deucalion finally spoke, with a level tone.

“I am more than calm, Deucalion. But let’s not forget. This gun has more than one bullet.” Peter told him angrily, yet his eyes never left Talia’s. “Now Talia. Do you have any last words?”

“Go to hell.” She told him firmly.

“I’ll see you there.”

Stiles knew what would happen a second before it did. He tried to shield Malia from it, but it was a useless effort.

Peter pulled the trigger, sending a bullet straight into Talia’s brain. She hit the ground; a hole perfectly aimed right between her eyes. A splatter of blood decorated the wall behind her, and the red leaked from her body onto Peter’s white carpet. He didn’t even flinch.

Malia opened her mouth to shout something out, but Stiles quickly grabbed her. She tugged against him, obviously desperate to see her aunt or confront her dad. Stiles felt terrible, but he couldn’t let her do that. Not with Deucalion still in there. So he pulled her close and let her bury her face in his shirt. He held her tight, trying to comfort her, while still keeping an eye on the dangerous situation only a few feet away from him.

Deucalion pulled his own gun out on Peter before he could react. At this point, they were at a stand-off – each pointing a loaded gun at the other. They circled each other for a moment, trying to gauge reaction times, aim, and how ready the other person was to shoot. From the looks of it, Deucalion was taking his time, trying to enjoy this moment, while Peter looked ready to pull his trigger at any second.

Peter laughed manically. “Now what? You think that because Talia is out of the way, you can kill me and be the sole leader?”

“That’s exactly what I’m thinking.” Deucalion told him, too calm for the situation.

Peter pulled the trigger on his gun. Nothing happened. He tried a few more times, trying to get a bullet to fire, but it was obvious his barrel was empty. He bitterly tossed it to the side and backed up, trying to find a replacement weapon. Unfortunately for him, there was nothing around. Not even a coat rack. Peter kept his spare guns in his desk, but there was no way for him to make it there without being shot by Deucalion. So he was stuck.

Deucalion advanced on Peter. “Maybe you should double check your weapons, Mr. Hale.”

Deucalion moved his hand to his holster where he removed a second gun, which Stiles recognized as Peter’s pistol. Stiles didn’t know when or how Deucalion had managed to switch the weapons, but it was obvious that was what had happened. So, Peter was officially weaponless, Talia was dead, and Deucalion had the upper hand. This was the end for them.

“Now I can finally be in charge. Like I was always destined to be. Because let’s be real here. You are nothing compared to me.” Deucalion chuckled darkly, taking another step towards Peter. The other man didn’t flinch, obviously trying to show strength in his last moments.

Deucalion aimed his gun at Peter’s head and his finger pulled on the trigger. A gunshot rang out.

Deucalion fell to the floor, having been killed instantly. Behind him stood Stiles and Malia, Stiles still with his gun aimed in front of him.

“I am so sick of villain monologues.”


	10. Chapter 10

Peter stared at them in shock for a split second before his face fell back into a look of carefully constructed neutrality. He turned to look at the two bodies on the floor and Stiles could see how his shoulders sagged. He decided that Peter probably wanted some room to deal with this, so he led Malia away.

They practically stumbled out of the room, they were so exhausted. The adrenaline faded from his body with each step he took. Malia seemed equally as worn, her body leaning against his for support. He looped his arm around her shoulders and pressed a relieved kiss to the top of her head, just happy they were both alive.

As they reached near the elevators, they caught the attention of Allison and Lydia. The two seemed a little worse for wear, but relatively fine. Allison had a nasty cut on her forehead and Lydia was favoring her right leg, but that was all. The second the two girls saw them, they rushed over, already bombarding them with questions.

“So? What happened?” Allison asked them.

“Talia and Deucalion are dead.” Malia spoke up.

Allison whistled with a mix of shock and appreciation. “Wow.”

“So now what?” Lydia asked.

“I think now we are supposed to go back to the way things used to be.” Stiles told them.

“Really?” They both raised their eyebrows at him.

“What else is there?” He gave a half-hearted shrug. Then, his eyes widened in realization. “Have you seen Scott?”

“He’s with Deaton.” Lydia told him quickly.

He whipped towards her. “What? Is everything okay?”

“He’s fine. Minor concussion.” Allison elaborated.

He glanced towards Malia, an apology on his tongue, but she was already pushing him towards the elevator doors. “Go.”

The elevators were, unfortunately, still out of order, so he had to take the stairs. The word of Talia and Deucalion’s demise must’ve spread fast because he didn’t encounter any trouble on his way down the stairs. In fact, he only saw people from Hale Industries. He didn’t have time to dwell on that, though, because before long, he was at the door to Deaton’s office.

He flung open the door and was alarmed to see Scott laying on the table with his eyes closed. Stiles almost passed out, before he saw Scott crack an eye open to see who was there and give him a small wave. Stiles rushed over to his side.

“Scott!”

“Stiles!” Scott sat up, and Stiles quickly pulled him into a hug.

“Dude, what happened?” Scott pulled away, and the two checked each other over for injuries.

Stiles hesitated, before telling Scott. “Talia’s dead. I shot Deucalion. Everything is fine now.”

Scott’s jaw dropped and his eyes widened in shock. “You shot Deucalion?”

“It was him or Peter.” Stiles shrugged, trying to avoid his look.

“Dude. That’s hardcore.”

“You would’ve done the same.” Stiles shrugged before redirecting. “Anyway, what happened with you?”

Scott scooted forward on the table before recounting his part of the story. “I ran into the Hales near the parking lot. They were trying to smuggle out a bunch of Peter’s old records. You know, to get a bunch of us arrested.”

“Deucalion must’ve given them that task to keep them from interfering with his plan to kill Talia.”

“Probably.” Scott agreed.

“Hold up.” Stiles backpedaled, finally registering Scott’s words. “You fought the Hales?”

“I had some help from Isaac and Kira.” Scott blushed, not wanting the praise.

Stiles grinned. “Still! You obviously came out on top!”

“Yeah, well.” He glanced around before remembering, “Oh, and Deaton saw I was injured and brought me back here for help.”

“Deaton? Who supposedly was helping Talia?” Stiles gave him a skeptical look.

“That’s the thing – I don’t think he was.”

Stiles thought about that for a moment. “So he’s just cryptic and ominous for no reason?”

“I guess.” Scott shrugged, then winced and put a hand to his head.

Stiles groaned. “I hate that that makes sense.”

Scott, ignoring Stiles’ protests, hopped up and headed to the door. “Anyway, I’m going to check up on Kira. You should probably make sure Malia is okay.”

“I will.” He followed Scott out. “We’ll talk later?”

“Of course.”

They went their separate ways, Scott to the ground floor and Stiles up to their own level. When he got there, he was surprised to see Malia near his desk talking to Peter. They were whispering, but he could tell from their facial expressions that Malia was agitated. He didn’t think too much about how Peter would react, only trying to help Malia out as much as possible, when he decided to interfere.

“Wanna get out of here?” He asked, going up to them.

He could see Malia breathe a sigh of relief. “Definitely.”

They walked away and Stiles waited until they were out of earshot before asking her, “What was that about?”

“Wanted to make sure I was okay and stuff.” She shook her head. “Obviously not, but I guess it was nice that he asked.”

“Yeah, for sure.”

“Can we go back to your place?” She switched topics without elaborating, but he let it slide.

“Sure.”

They walked outside before getting into his car and heading back to his apartment. He started to say something to her a few times, before changing his mind. She seemed like she just needed some time to herself to think, which he understood, so he let her be. Until they finally entered his apartment.

“So… how are you doing?” He asked as they plopped down on his couch.

She rolled her eyes. “Been better.”

“Right.” He fumbled for the right thing to say to comfort her.

“I guess… I’m just trying to wrap my head around everything.”

“That makes sense. I still only vaguely know what’s happening.”

“Yeah.” She sighed and stared down at her lap before looking up at him, “I know we just got here, and you’re exhausted but… can I ask you a favor?”

He didn’t hesitate to agree. “Anything.”

Less than an hour later, he found himself at a familiar location. The burnt husk of the Hale house loomed above them as Malia’s hand rested precariously on the doorknob. She had asked him to take her here but hadn’t given him much context yet. He wanted to be supportive, but obviously he was naturally curious, and the mystery was killing him. He stayed silent though, until she was finally willing to talk.

“I wanted to come back here and try to… get some closure, I guess.” She elaborated, staring at the door in front of her, rather than at him.

“Do you want me to come too?”

“Yeah.” She led him inside the front door hesitantly, bringing them right into the front of the house, which he remembered from the night before. “Here’s our entry. We used to have these huge parties. People from all over the city would come here in these elegant gowns to socialize. Derek, Cora, and I would hide up along the railing right there and watch-” She gestured towards the rotting banister at the very top of the stairs. “Once, when I was thirteen, Cora was fifteen, and Derek was eighteen, Laura snuck us champagne from downstairs. Peter caught us and – he was so different back then – he wasn’t even mad because Cora and I thought it was so disgusting. Laura, on the other hand, got stuck doing clean up for the party because of it. That was… a great night.”

“It sounds like it.” He agreed, doing his best to be supportive.

“Here.” She led him up the stairs to a long hallway lined with doors. She went to the first two, which were across from each other. “This was Peter’s room and this was Talia and Cassius’s room. Cassius was her husband, by the way.” They walked further down the hallway. “Anyway, then here was my room.” They walked inside. “It was painted light blue and I loved it. I had ceiling stars, a big record collection, and a pile of stuffed animals I was always too ashamed to admit I still owned. Yeah, I loved this room.”

“It sounded really pretty.”

She quickly wiped a tear from her face. “I’m sorry. I guess I just needed to see it all, now that it’s gone. Realize that there’s a difference between my childhood and where we are now, I guess. Peter isn’t like he used to be. Talia, Derek, Cora, and Laura tried to kill us. The house burned down. Everyone is dead. I guess I just feel like I’m by myself now. I’m the only one really left. Though, I guess I have been for a while now.”

“Hey.” He put a hand on her arm. “I’m not a Hale and I know it’s not anywhere close to the same thing, but you aren’t alone now. You’ve got me.”

She gave him a watery smile. “Thanks, Stiles. For everything.”

“Of course.”

She sighed, looked around the room one last time, before telling him “Okay. We can go back now.”

When they got back, Malia didn’t take a seat or anything. She just looked at him for a moment, before grabbing her jacket and heading towards the door. He didn’t know why she was acting odd all of a sudden, so he moved back towards her.

“I guess it’s time for me to go.” She told him, putting her hand on the door knob.

“Okay, I can go get the car-” He started to say, but she cut him off.

“No, Stiles. Back to New York.” She clarified.

His heart sank. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Since, you know, I’m not in anymore danger.”

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“Yeah.”

He wanted to let her do what she wanted. He really, really did. But after these past few weeks, he couldn’t stomach the thought of losing her. Of her going off to the other side of the country where he would maybe see her twice if he was lucky? Absolutely not. As much as he hated to admit it… he needed her. He needed her so much it hurt. Like, he couldn’t stand to be apart from her at this point. So, he bottled his pride and told her:

“Actually, no. You’re not.”

“I’m not?” She asked him, but she didn’t sound surprised.

“You should stay here.”

“I should.” It wasn’t a question.

He continued to talk. “Yeah, I mean. Kira would miss you. Peter would probably like having you around. I mean, he owes us, so you could probably work for Hale Industries now. If you wanted to, of course.”

“Anyone else who would miss me?” She took a step closer to him, so they were only a few inches away.

“I would.” He admitted.

“I’ll think about it. Just for you.”

Not knowing what to say, he said “Cool.”

After a few seconds of silence, she rolled her eyes at him fondly. “Shit, Stiles. Do I have to do everything?”

She stepped forward and kissed him. It took him a second to realize what was happening. _Malia Hale was kissing him_. And that was awesome. So, he kissed her back with just as much enthusiasm, reaching forward and wrapping his arms around her waist. After a few seconds, he pulled back, breathing heavily.

“I-” He started to talk but she interrupted him.

“Shut up and kiss me again.”

“Absolutely.”

So, they were together now. Like, _dating_ together. Stiles still couldn’t believe it as he walked into Hale Industries with her the next day, their hands linked together. Peter had requested to see them early the morning because of the whole Talia-Deucalion debacle, which didn’t surprise them. So, at seven in the morning, the two found themselves face to face with Peter Hale.

“So. Stilinski.” Peter started.

“Yes, sir.”

“Seeing as there are a distinct lack of Level Fives at the moment, I would like to offer you a promotion.”

He couldn’t stop the grin that spread across his face. “I would be honored. What would this entail?”

“I suppose you would be able to do more of the research and detective work you seem to enjoy so much.”

“Yes!” He shouted excitedly, before toning it down. “I mean, thank you, sir.”

Peter just rolled his eyes at him, before turning to Malia. “And Malia. As much as I didn’t want you involved… you have a place here too. If you want it.”

“Oh, I definitely do.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I already regret this.”

He shooed them out, and neither of them hesitated. They left his office laughing, as Stiles led her to where her desk would be. They wouldn’t be near each other, as she was starting as a Level Two, but it was definitely better than nothing. Besides, she was not nearly trained enough for something higher than that, as much as she liked to believe she was.

Besides her new job at Hale Industries, Malia was currently in the process of moving into her own apartment. Peter still didn’t totally trust her to be on her own, so she had a place a few floors below him. Malia had complained for hours about it, but Stiles honestly thought it was for the best. Besides, it made things more convenient for him.

Later that day, he found himself at said apartment. He was currently helping Malia put pictures up around her room. There were a few with her and some of her college friends, one of the two of them that Scott had taken, and one of her family from when Malia was younger. Stiles hadn’t understood why she insisted on putting it up, but he didn’t press the issue. He was lining up the last picture on the wall when Malia came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him.

“Who would’ve thought I’d see Stiles Stilinski being all domestic.” She teased him.

“I could kick your ass.” He muttered through tape in his mouth.

“You could try.”

He stepped back to look at his work. “How does it look?”

“Crooked.” She told him, even they both knew she was saying to for the sole purpose of making him mad.

“Shut up.” He muttered, before checking his watch. “Oh, I’ve gotta go. I’m running late.”

“I’ll see you later. Tell Scott I say hi.”

“I will.”

He gave her a quick kiss, before walking down to his Jeep. He pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, before turning towards the direction of Scott’s apartment. The two of them had another meeting with the rookies. He pulled up in front of the building with two minutes to spare. Scott stumbled through the door, fixing his shirt, while Kira waved from his window upstairs. Stiles could see the blush on his face from twenty feet away. Finally, Scott made it to the car and climbed into the passenger’s seat. He buckled his seat belt and turned to face Stiles with a grin.

“So? What are we waiting for?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's the ending!!! I had a lot of fun writing this story, so I hope you all enjoyed reading it. I was thinking about writing three prequel chapters (one for Stiles, Malia, and Scott) if you would be interested in reading those. :)


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